


Walking with Corpses

by nameless_sufferer



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Character Death, F/F, F/M, I don't know what to do with this, I never realized how fun additional tags are, In future - Freeform, Just for kicks and giggles, Just kind of rolling with it, M/M, POV Multiple, Pole dancing Markiplier, Weird Plot Shit, cry quotes because he makes the best quotes, oh and ships will occur, sorry I'm not sorry, you don't like this don't read
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-03 00:58:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4080460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nameless_sufferer/pseuds/nameless_sufferer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"My new life didn't start off like most probably should have." That's how it always begins, isn't it? The day your entire life is flipped sunny side fucking down and all you can do is watch. I didn't ask for this and I don't even know how it happened, but now I could not go back and change it. Reality is a scary place, a fear of all those horrors come true, and it seems I'm living one.</p><p>Well, if video games have taught me anything, I'm going to need to live. Preferably with a hoard of weapons, rations, and a certain companion with blonde hair and blue eyes possibly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1: Artificial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My new life didn't start off like most probably should have. That being an annoying alarm clock blaring in my ear while the sun's bright rays filtered in to snake between my fingers into my eyes. Or the possibility of someone downstairs probably making breakfast, french toast and a shit load of syrup, while the morning news would drift and muffle to sound like an annoying cartoon featuring a boy who can't kick and football because of a girl.

Cry's POV

My new life didn't start off like most probably should have. That being an annoying alarm clock blaring in my ear while the sun's bright rays filtered in to snake between my fingers into my eyes. Or the possibility of someone downstairs probably making breakfast, french toast and a shit load of syrup, while the morning news would drift and muffle to sound like an annoying cartoon featuring a boy who can't kick and football because of a girl.

Maybe I would have woken up and dragged my feet across the cool floorboards toward the fantastic aroma and prepared for work while my flatmate continued to watch the news with a bored expression, complaining loudly about how the world was nothing but politicians grumbling about how we weren't robots ready for every command they had. Perhaps I would have agreed and joked about how if this was video game featuring a zombie apocalypse they would be the biggest dumbasses because they wouldn't be all high and mighty then.

Probably this. Perhaps that. Maybe so. It was a lot of speculation on an artificial life that wasn't today and was definitely not going to be tomorrow.

Because when I awoke, I certainly didn't hear an alarm clock go off nor did those heavy clouds break up to spare a ray of sunlight. Only stale air of reeking clothes and spoiled food filled my nostrils. Humidity and heat were the only welcoming aspects this morning. Pulling away sheets that stuck too comfortably on my otherwise cool skin, I noted that my alarm clock didn't go off because there was no electricity to begin with. The only noise I was able to hear was a low growl from my stomach and a few tangent buzzing of flies finding their meals with eager starvation.

This scenario seemed all too similar to how a few games started. I pinched my skin for good measure, but I didn't wake up. No, this was real. I just hope it wasn't what I thought it was. I really hope so.

When my feet touched the boards, they were warm and stuck to my sweating skin like blood to a corpse. The humidity had done a number and a few of them glistened with condensation of this encased room. The power has been out for a while then. All night possibly.

Peering in the direction of the exit, I heard nothing to make this morning a lot less tense than it was. The door was cracked open, but no mischievous expression met my own. No snicker or snide remark was given. All was quiet. All was eerily dead and surrealistic. It only seemed to escalate as I walked down the hallway towards where my flatmate would be situated.

But he wasn't there. In fact, I could find nothing to prove he was even here. That placed me on a prominent edge as I continued to dwindle from room to room.

The sitting room was bare and the TV silent. The PS3 attached was still lazily organized in front of its screen. The couch and desk unoccupied and completely ignored. A few cans of Dr. Pepper and Diet Coke littered the carpet with a few stains to make their marks known. But those were old. Not recent. Everything was desolate and completely lacking any aspect of people living here.

The kitchen was the same except for one anomaly. One little change that only proved that I was certainly not anymore safe than mice to a cat or rabbits to wolves.

As I neared the room with a barely hinged door, I flinched at the blood splatter decorating it, sporting a few hour old hand print. Something was in there. It might be my flat mate. It might be a complete stranger. It could be something else that I would rather not have raiding and making noise in my kitchen. Of course as I neared the walls, I couldn't help but thinking that if the man wants that kitchen, he can have it. My spite of bravery was dissolving leaving me weary and concerned.

Growls and guttural noises reverberated through the thin plastered walls. Moans and creaks followed each step and drag. Whatever was in there couldn't possibly be human but I didn't want to believe it was the other… possibility. Nonetheless, I refused to look inside the room, fear gripping me. I didn't make a noise to make myself known. For some reason, my senses told me to keep quiet. That this was not a dream and definitely not the reality I thought I knew yesterday.

But if I wanted to be certain of where I stood in this new world, I would have to see what was in there. Or at least guess what it could be.

Taking a deep breath, I buried the fear in determination.

I pushed the door open gently and flinched back to the wall with heavy, silent breaths when it creaked slowly the entire time it moved. I knew I should have fixed that door. I knew it and now that little moment of relapse was going to screw me over. Royally.

The noises stopped before a low, dragging growl appeared to get closer to me. It was a hungry, animalistic noise. All I could think of was every god forsaken zombie game I played. How I would laugh because it wasn't real.

This wasn't the case. This wasn't some pixelated game that stated "Game Over" when you got ripped at the throat and then spawned you from your last save point. This was reality and the cold, hard truth of it was like ice in my veins.

The noises got closer. I could hear the dragging of feet and the clutter of cups and glasses as whoever was in there knocked over dishware and drawers. The sounds felt like they were crawling towards me, a shit eating grin on its face as it realized my doom would be because of it. My breathing quickened, but I concentrated on keeping them quiet, thinking of every other game where that was the key to survival. Silence and stealth. I could do that, right?

I just needed a weapon. Something just in case this turned sour real fast. Glancing around me, I grabbed a pair of scissors and scowled at the limited choice. A gun would have been perfect, but who keeps guns lying around in their flat for anyone to see? This wasn't a video game where my inventory was already stocked with ammo and ten types of guns to choose from with a bow and arrow or grenade. This was real life and in real life in a flat of two very single men, a pair of long, sharp scissors was going to have to do.

My physique was another off setting aspect in this. I wasn't like Joel in the Last of Us. I didn't have the skills and build to maneuver into a arm lock and jab a shiv in the neck. I was lanky, skinny, a twig. Shit, I couldn't remember if I had anything but a flat chest hidden behind a hoodie. No six pack on this pale slab of skin.

I resisted the urge to chuckle only because I knew this wasn't the time nor the place for such amusement.

Well, fuck. If I had known that in a day the whole world would go to hell I would have started working out years ago.

Yeah… nah. I would have still played video games. I probably would have just saved some money to buy me a ton of guns, ammo, knives, or katanas… and probably would have lacked any skill in using them. I would still be in this fucked up situation with a pair of scissors to guide me.

A growl next to me ear is what made me jump out of my reverie and released me of any stealth I had when a glass shadow box full of limited edition video game figurines fell to the floor and shattered. I tumbled after it and fell to the floor, cursing as the wood made contact with my soon to be bruised body.

But that was besides the point. The point was that I made noise because I didn't concentrate at all. Fuck.

Here comes to walking dead. I hate my life right now.

As predicted, the dead man turned around the corner and looked at my fallen form on the floor. I should have moved. I should be jumping to my feet and running to the nearest room or attacking him. Common sense was glaring at me and smacking me upside the head, waiting for that one hit that would make me come to terms with this. The hit hadn't come yet.

In front of me was my flat mate; was being the word. It wasn't him anymore. What was there was a man with jagged, blood caked clothing and a face that had the skin falling off with every step. His left arm appeared broken, but that was the only injury. Otherwise, he was like my mate except he was dead. Dead as a piece of road kill on the highway.

Common sense finally made its mark when I narrowly missed his slash at my legs by shuffling back and getting to my feet. I could run. I could and I would live. But this was my friend, my flatmate. I couldn't leave him this way. That's not how I roll and I know he would probably be grateful in some sense of an afterlife if I released him from this horror.

But every time I thought of that, of these sharp scissors jarring into his skull, I could feel my nerves get disconnected. Morality was fighting with survival and I knew that I didn't have the time now to worry of it. I wouldn't have any time if those yellowed nails curled under my skin. I wouldn't be able to calmly translate this into a decision if I was infected with whatever disease is affecting the world, or so I assumed. I don't think one zombie spawns out of no where and no one else is one. That's not how it works.

Living and surviving a zombie apocalypse was how it worked.

If I want to live, I have to fight. That's the only way. If I falter I will die and that would make my entire life completely useless.

I'm sorry, man. I really am.

Steeling my nerves and pushing emotion and memories to the back of my mind, I rushed forward and kicked the leg under the zombie. I watched it fall and moved to the left when it tried to get me. When the thump was heard, I took a deep breath and stabbed the scissor blades into his skull over and over until his face was beyond recognition.

His arms had stopped moving after the first hit.

Moving back from his corpse, I took a shaky breath and nearly gagged when I finally took in the decomposing smell I had missed in my stupor of ignorance. It was so heavy, so thick. Like an aura expelling death. Black blood mixed with thin strands of red coursed from his skull across the floorboards. For a second I saw what he used to be and for a split of that second, this felt too much like murder.

So I ran back to my room. I locked it and slid down its protesting form, cradling my head in my hands. A few stray tears fell from my eyes and slipped through the gaps in my fingers but I quickly stopped them and pulled myself together. My hand, speckled with blood splatter, ran through my hair as I tried to sort this out. For once I was glad that I was just a little selfish. Just selfish enough to save my skin and not worrying of a proper burial or funeral. It simply wasn't the time.

No. I can't be freaking out. That would make me vulnerable. I have to be strong. More importantly, I have to keep a level head. Maybe leaving this place would be the best course of action. Grab some food, some water, other pieces of shit I might need and then leaving. It's day time. Zombies aren't as active at night, right? Right.

Standing, I dusted off my pants and cringed when I saw my face in the mirror in front of me. My face screamed murderer and I didn't want anyone else to see that. If there was anyone else.

I walked to the closet and opened it. Inside, tucked in the back next to my games, was a mask. It looked like a poker face. Maybe once this was a trend I used to describe me, but now I was going to use it to protect me. If anything, it would make this smell just a little less potent.

No hesitation rendered as I pulled the mask over my face and adjusted it to see out of the two black mesh holes made for sight.

Everything else after that was almost robotic. I switched clothing so I was wearing a Walking Dead shirt sporting Clementine and Lee with a faded army green hoodie that I pulled over my head to cover my brown locks fully. A pair of black pants that could be described as skinny jeans and red converse later and I was ready. Tossing my ipod, charger, headphones, first aid kit and a few pair of shirts into my bag, I swung the half empty sack over my shoulder.

Everything else would involve me going back out there.

Cursing under my breath, I nervously adjusted my mask and walked out. Nothing changed in the fifteen minutes I was gone. It was the same. Everything went well but only because I didn't kill him in the kitchen and we luckily had two entrances to get in.

I threw a few cans of beans, fruit, and as much bottled water into my bag before zipping it up and placing it comfortably over my shoulder.

'Weapon' my mind whispered and I wanted to gag. The only weapon was inside my friend's skull. Unlike most households, we didn't have actual silverware and relied on plastic utensils and pizza deliveries. That made those scissors the only secure firearm unless useless nerf guns count.

Which they don't unless in a stupid, artificial video game.

My friend was exactly how I left him. Dead and permanently so. As I neared him, I already spotted maggots and flies beginning to mold into his flesh and resisted the urge to swat them away. He wasn't him anymore. He wasn't alive.

Wrapping my fingers around the rubber handle of the scissors, I yanked and they came out easily. I quickly rubbed the blade against the nearby sofa to get rid of the blood on it before reaching for the tape and wrapping several layers around the blades to keep them fixated.

Everything was ready. But I wasn't.

I looked down at my flatmate and I felt like a murderer.

This didn't feel right. I shouldn't leave him like this. I have to say something to make this good man more at peace if possible.

"Hey man," I whispered into the stale, decomposing air, "Sorry about this. I should have been the one to go. Really. No lies here. Shit, you were even better at zombie survival games than I was. You deserved to live. I'm probably going to waste what life I have been given by the first walker I see." I chuckled but it wasn't funny. It couldn't ever be funny. "I wish I could have been there, man. But now it's too late. Always to fucking late, right?" I sighed and continued softly.

"Just know that you were one hell of a fucking flatmate and I wouldn't regret anything of that. I will remember you and will tell my kids and their fucking grandkids about this awesome man who said one day we would be robots or be over run by aliens. They may laugh, but you know what? They will remember you. I know I will."

Shuffling, I sighed and ran a hand through my hair again, "so yeah. That's all I have to say, man. Well, bye." Turning on my heels, I walked out the door of our little flat and into the clean air of nature and the hell I would be given to continue breathing it. The farewell was my usual youtube ending, but this time it held a sense of finality to it. Like every time I said it, it would be the end for that person.

I didn't like it. Just like I didn't like the feeling someone was eying my back.

The entire time until the moment those doors closed, I felt his eyes follow me with one word.

Murderer.


	2. Chapter 2: Disbelief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Felix," she whispered with fright and I bit my lip as I tried to soothe her. Tried being the major word here. Tried being the best word that could ever fit this fucked up situation.
> 
> This was not even how this was supposed to be. It was supposed to be this amazing event with all the surprises and smiles that an event could create. It was supposed to be the best ever in existence, or at least for a specific friend of mine. This strewn catastrophe of disbelief and terror was definitely not in the contract. It wasn't in our plan. It was nowhere in any of the conversations used to discuss it.
> 
> In some other reality, I would be just getting ready right now. In some other better reality, I would be smiling and laughing at these silly American cartoons. I might have been dressed casually or so preposterous that my friend would recognize me easily and without a doubt. I might have brought the newest games or some other present to make it the best birthday ever. I might have done a lot of things if this didn't happen.
> 
> If hell didn't come knocking on each individual doorstep with a personal fuck you to boot.

Chapter 2: Disbelief

-Felix POV-

"Felix," she whispered with fright and I bit my lip as I tried to soothe her. Tried being the major word here. Tried being the best word that could ever fit this fucked up situation.

This was not even how this was supposed to be. It was supposed to be this amazing event with all the surprises and smiles that an event could create. It was supposed to be the best ever in existence, or at least for a specific friend of mine. This strewn catastrophe of disbelief and terror was definitely not in the contract. It wasn't in our plan. It was nowhere in any of the conversations used to discuss it.

In some other reality, I would be just getting ready right now. In some other _better_ reality, I would be smiling and laughing at these silly American cartoons. I might have been dressed casually or so preposterous that my friend would recognize me easily and without a doubt. I might have brought the newest games or some other present to make it the best birthday ever. I might have done a lot of things if this didn't happen.

If hell didn't come knocking on each individual doorstep with a personal fuck you to boot.

Rubbing soft circles into her back, I attempted with all the tranquil air I could muster to not relay the shivers coursing through my nerves. They were running on adrenaline. They _have_ been running on adrenaline and I don't see it draining anytime soon. My nerves were shot and on fire with every espresso like substance out there. Race cars and Sonic would have nothing to my jolted body.

And yet it had to be concealed. A mask had to be pulled over my own cold-blooded terror to pacify hers. No, wait, not a mask, a full on body suit because if my expression didn't give it away I knew that my body sure as hell would. I was battling my own fears with her, but I couldn't show them. Not because of weakness or strength but because if I were to express my absolute anxiety, she would know immediately that something was wrong. She would be even more frightened and in situations like this that's good for only one thing: _getting us both killed._

Neither of us wanted to die at this moment. I mean, who would want to die right now? Who would want to die prematurely _ever?_ It would be practically destroying what sense of rule we had to experience our lives to the fullest. We had full lifetimes to endure with all sorts of (hopefully good) surprises to make it all the more interesting! This circumstance was deliberately refusing us to live any longer if we couldn't adapt to what was handed to us.

And it was handed to us. It might as well have been served on a silver platter with a little pristine note of "Best of luck in whatever afterlife you follow!"

Still, none of us could have been prepared for this. It just was not normal to have this occur. It could have been from some sort of miscellaneous ordeal of some idiot with too much power or even an idiot with the right amount of power and the wrong type of material to be in charge of and I still would not have expected this to ever happen. It was too surrealistic and didn't feel like it belonged in reality.

Reality sure brought up its infamous surprise attacks, eh?

No, this wasn't time to make any humorous thoughts. This of all times wasn't the time to make those sort of notions. Right now, I was to be calm and tranquil. Laughing at some absurdity in this moment would only make her feel a lot worse and even more scared. She would think I lost it! I know I would think I lost it.

As a result, she would lose it. She wouldn't lose just her mind, but her faith in me as support and any self-assurance that she would survive.

At this moment, if I couldn't calm her down, we were going to die. I was willing to do anything to keep her safe but it was impossible without a strategy or a weapon of some sort. Like carrying a spoon to a gunfight. No, not even a knife, a spoon. It would be worse than that.

Imagine walking up to a… dead corpse per say and only having your bare hands and personal experience as a weapon? Let's also say that you are physically lean and skinny with little to no significant muscles to speak of? Even more, let's add in a fact that you are mostly interested in your own self-sacrifice to save someone else rather than to save your own skin. Your survival rate just decreased to less than one percent. In fact, it might as well be zero. You wouldn't live. You need a weapon and whether that would be scissors or an AK-47, it was better than your own nails and skin.

Even if you had a weapon, if you didn't have a clear head and stable hands to support the said weapon, you were still screwed. So many factors contribute into your survival. Too many factors. And our current scenario multiplied it by a tenfold.

Our location didn't make our odds any better. We were as successful as cornered black rabbits trying to burrow ourselves in snow while in the hungry eyes of a wolf. God that analogy brought shivers and goose bumps across my skin. Odd because I thought they would already be there. I mean, this was a situation where such actions would be actually reasonable to have!

The fear of death was heavy in the room. Its stench clawed out between the cracks of my resolve and I clenched hard to avoid it getting any further. I was just too fucking scared.

Always so scared. My mind kept flitting from reality to video game pretense and back. It kept creating similarities. It kept adding fears to my list. Even now, I couldn't concentrate! This whole position felt too much like Amnesia when I would hide from the bro and while avoiding its gaze so I wouldn't go insane or get caught. I'm fairly sure if this was that game, I would be well on the floor cringing from the insanity of this fear and cowering.

God, scary video games. This was almost a real life deja vu moment to every single one of those and I could feel my heart rate rise with every moan and grumble, every slip and leer. If games were to be recreated into reality, this certainly wasn't one I would have picked. I would go back and erase that order. I would put in Flappy Bird or some other absurdly addictive game that _wouldn't_ end in our death and ultimate demise!

But I couldn't go back. I wasn't a time traveler. I was only human and being mortal scared me more than anything. The fear of not getting a reset and a save station to restart at after a game over.

But I was better off than the trembling woman next to me. The apprehensive woman being Marzia, the girlfriend I now regretted bringing with me.

Marzia had never seen this. Marzia was not used to this drastic change or these altered scenarios like I would be in video games. For Marzia this was probably ten times worse, no wait a hundred times worse, than what I thought of it. She's never played the games I did. She's never faced the foes I have. She hasn't overcome the obstacles I have in learning the tricks a maneuvers of most if not all horror games. Overall, she wasn't accustomed to this.

But I was. I was used to this so I had to work extra hard to keep us both safe and alive. I had to be her anchor much like my bros were to me in the land of pixels and animations.

We were currently huddled in our hotel closet, watching as the person – corpse? – in front of us continued to roam throughout our room. It moved painstakingly slow, dragging its feet in small shuffles across the carpet. Blood stains and raw skin were staining the once white floor. Each step sent a vibration through its creaking bones that resulted in waterlogged skin peeling off like a second layer. The person – a she? – walked throughout the entire suite with a searching, dead gaze and I prayed to whatever God out there that it wouldn't smell us.

Marzia was quivering terribly (or was it me?). A leaf in the wind couldn't compare to the shivers she was trying to hold in. Even through my embrace, I knew it didn't do a damn thing to calm her. I couldn't blame her. We didn't know what to do. I didn't know what to do. This wasn't like the Walking Dead game I finished so long ago. I wasn't as strong, as profound, as Lee was. I was weak and a coward. Clementine was braver than I was. When she held a gun and, depending on your choice, shot Lee, she did it even though she was frightened and mourning. She did what was supposed to be done.

A gun did rest in my hand right now, but I didn't use it. It stayed bouncing in my palms, a full round loaded.

But I didn't shoot a single god forsaken bullet.

I watched the zombie closely, trying to catch minuscule glimpses of the walking corpse thinking of leaving. Minutes passed by but with as shallow and quiet our breaths mingled and the tense atmosphere suffocating any bravery, it might as well have been hours.

A time of some amount trickled down and the zombie still didn't move towards the door now hanging on a hinge. It remained shuffling through the room with no objective and I realized that if I wanted it gone I was going to have to act myself. But that would not only risk myself but Marzia. I didn't want to lose her. I didn't want her to be lost to this disease that seems to have affected the entire world.

Because she was like a beacon right now. The only living being that was keeping me from hyperventilating out of control and tensing up.

If she was gone… I wouldn't know what to do.

Perhaps I would actually lose it like I denied earlier! Maybe I will steel up and become apathetic although that is all fucking unlikely due to my personality. I had better chances of getting down on my knees and praying in a mob of zombies than becoming that cool and collected.

Marzia was my anchor like I was hers and she didn't even know it.

So I sat there huddled in the closet, watching a zombie that didn't appear to be leaving anytime soon. I was hoping for a miracle I knew wouldn't appear.

Miracles. Yeah right. There was no such thing as spontaneous miracles. There was no such thing as luck. There was only chance and decision, facing the music and plugging in your earbuds.

Hope was a stingy and stubborn emotion though. It still dripped into my veins and coursed through my heart.

I was just waiting for Daryl to show with a crossbow in tow. I wouldn't be surprised at this point.

The beginning of the long night was more surreal than this after all and nothing could compare to that.

It started with the power going off at around midnight. Marzia and I assumed it was just a shortage or maybe the breaker decided to malfunction. We waited for half an hour but no one came to our room to see if we needed help. No staff came out to relieve us of our fears. No words of comfort were exchanged. That was probably the first time fear and terror struck us like a knife stabbing the same wound over and over.

The first scream rang out around 2 am. Yells and more screeches followed. Banshees were outside and I couldn't distinguish people from monsters. Even then I was trying to be optimistic in what the horror could be. Maybe it was a robbery. Maybe a murder had occurred. I didn't expect Armageddon to come skipping into town like some child with flowers. Telling Marzia to stay I decided to check it out. I assumed it was a prank to add to the list. Couldn't be anything else really.

When I looked out it was clear how wrong I was. This wasn't a prank. How could it be? Unless Americans are ridiculously good at this sort of thing and are able to get an entire city at that point, this was definitely not a joke. Not even remotely close.

Outside the door was a person standing in the hallway. The lights were out but the emergency light still blinked in and out. A red hue became potent on the walls before fading the black. It made the person look like a severely altered silhouette. I caught glimpses of the person but each glance only made it so much worse. Flesh was falling off. Movements were erratic and unnatural. Everything spelled the impossible.

I couldn't force myself to look away.

It got worse from there. More of the dead appeared. It was like this suite was a beacon of fast food for them. Foreigners and natives being the main course. They saw me and made their way towards our room in limping movements. When they reached the door, they pounded and growled out guttural noises too beast like to possibly resemble the humans they once were. I tried to keep them back but when it was clear they would come in this room anyways, Marzia and I hid in the closet. As a last thought (and a good one), I grabbed the gun.

And that's where we were now. Where we have been for the past few hours. Drenched in sweat and incredibly thirsty, we didn't even so much as whisper if we could help it. Silence and shadow was our best friend all of a sudden when we once feared it. Our fears were friends and our friends were fears.

We were lucky though. Day break was moving in and it seemed that the corpses were biologically given a call to move away to a darker area. They sluggishly crawled out of our room and into the hallway. As of now, I don't think any zombies were actually in the building period. Well, beside this one. The only one that decided to linger right now because it seemed to not get the message.

Meaning I would have to put it down.

I froze briefly and Marzia looked at me then at the gun in my hand. Understanding shone in her eyes quickly despite the situation at hand. She nodded to me as if telling me to do it, but I was afraid. Afraid for her. Afraid for me. Just afraid. Always so fucking afraid.

What if I miss? What if it gets to her? I don't get a do over for this. I don't get a chance to undo what I will undoubtedly screw up. There was no green life shroom to help me fix my mistake.

Laughter and girlish screams were not going to save me this time. Humor might as well be placed with going to a gunfight with a spoon.

This was why people watched me in YouTube. For my personality. And for a while that was okay. Looking scared in the camera and knowing nothing would touch me in real life. That was all okay. I was free to act with ignorance and the cries of a child. Even if that wasn't fully me. It was for the Bros after all. I didn't want to disappoint them.

But those fears were true now. I couldn't just brofist the fucking zombie and hope for it to disappear when I blinked because that wouldn't happen. I wasn't safe behind a computer screen. Not anymore. I didn't value it then, the safety and security, but I missed it now.

A lot.

But a particular proverb stuck in my head. I don't know why it came now. Perhaps to help me through my stage of distress? Either way, it echoed soundly in my mind and left a feeling of serenity in my body.

 _"Anfall är bästa försvar."_ To translate it into better terms, the best defense is a good offense.

I was the stronger of us two. I couldn't hide behind Marzia and I wouldn't hide behind her. Defending her was my priority. She was my priority.

"F-Felix…" Marzia whispered hoarsely. Looking up, I noticed the zombie getting closer and closer to us. Maybe I made a noise or perhaps it just smelled our fear. It was too late to cower now.

It's steps were heavy and they had direction. This room. This small cramped space. Between the gaps of the two crooked closet doors I could see it look straight at me. Right in my eyes. It was so direct I noticed the enlarged pupils narrow to slits in animalistic hunger.

A growl erupted from its throat as it lunged towards the closet doors, clawing as I held them closed using nail and force. Marzia was inching away as far as she could, tears streaming down her face. I was surprised when she didn't make a sound.

And I just sat there watching her. Really. That's all I did.

Wait. What the fuck am I doing? I'm her boyfriend and I'm not even pulling out all my stops to keep her safe. I have a gun. I have bullets. Why am I not using them when it's clear we need this? She shouldn't be scared if I have a way to lessen it.

God I'm such an idiot.

"Jag är så jävla dum," I cursed to myself as I adjusted my hold on the small pistol I had in my palms. It was heavier now that I had a purpose for it. In all honesty, I brought it in case something were to happen when Marzia and I went out during our vacation in Florida, but it seems that wasn't meant to be. Now I have to use it to kill a person because in a switch, life was turned from living to survival of the fittest.

I double checked the barrel of the gun to make sure it actually had ammo. Now that I think of it, I probably did it just to procrastinate what I had on my shoulders.

The gun made a small click as I locked it on where the zombie's forehead would be when it opened the door. Claws were echoing into the enclosed space as nails were driven down. I waited, sweat rolling down thickly from my brow. Those growls seemed ever closer. I was nervous, unsure, and afraid. The zombie wasn't. Not a good mix when shooting was a priority. I just hoped my bad shooting from video games didn't follow me into real life. I really really hoped so.

I released the door. Hands aching at the joints from holding onto it so tightly.

At last, the growls turned to grumbles as the corpse's fingers gripped between the doors on accident and began to tug. I sighed and took one glance at Marzia's shivering form despite the heat consuming us.

Fright. That was the theme now wasn't it?

In this world, fear was going to always be the message. It was going to be the theme. It was going to be the word that we try to get out. Fear was the word to describe this but it was up to us on how we interpreted that.

I expected the zombie to take its time opening the door and it did, humanity gone and the information on how to open doors with it.

I counted down.

3…

2…

1…

The zombie lurched at me and I yelped as the gun went off twice. I almost screamed when the zombie landed on me. Closing my eyes tightly, I awaited its teeth to sink into my throat. I anticipated death to come in a blink of an eye. I waited and waited but nothing happened.

Everything went silent for a moment. A pen could drop and it would sound like an avalanche.

"Felix? Are you okay?" Marzia whimpered.

I struggled under the dead weight of the woman corpse and groaned as it didn't want to move. God this looked heavier now that I wasn't some gamer pressing buttons. It weighed a fucking ton.

After a few minutes of Marzia's pleas and my groans and attempts at comfort, I managed to get the body off of me. It slid disgustingly and left a trail of blood and other human bits all over my attire. I didn't mind it too much but I probably lost any chance at getting a hug from Marzia.

Panting heavily, I looked at Marzia and she cowered back. Right. She doesn't know if I was bitten or not.

"Hey," I spoke softly," you don't think I would leave a pretty woman such as yourself in this mean ol' world, did you?" I grinned and she sighed, grinning back. It lasted a second before faltering to worry.

"The… mark?" She spoke with uncertainty.

I pulled my shirt down from the collar and exposed my shoulders to her. Both of them. After her quick check over my condition, she seemed happy. That's good. I wouldn't want her distressed. The only thing that is good for is ruining you.

Actually there are a lot of things that are good at getting you killed now that I think of it. Maybe I should make a list.

Anyhow, I already know the cake topper to its words.

Anxiety. That was like a death sentence in any scenario like this.

But so is bringing anyone you love according to The Last of Us.

I reached out to hug her but she cringed, pointing at the expired bodily fluids that stained my shirt. I rolled my eyes at her decency. Of course she would want to remain clean and mostly pristine in this situation. That was very Marzia.

But that wasn't me.

"As If I wouldn't hug you simply because I'm dirty. Come here woman," I laughed out as I pulled Marzia to my chest. At first she was tense, getting used to the stench that covered me, but then she relaxed and returned the embrace. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

The hug was real and I think that that was what I was needing this whole time. Something to say that this wasn't some horrible nightmare and actual reality. It doesn't get any more real when your lover hugs you and you can feel their beating heart and warm skin against your own.

If this is reality though, then I have to prepare the one person dear to me. I have to make her understand the reality I just comprehended. That shouldn't be too hard. I'm the thickest headed person I know. She should be nothing.

Backing away, I looked at Marzia with a stern face. She looked puzzled but I hushed her before she could question anything. She had to listen. That was all I wanted her to do.

"Marzia," I spoke, holding her by the shoulders. She remained silent but I knew she was hearing my every word. She was always a good listener. "We have to leave here, this room. If we stay here we will die of starvation or infection and I don't want you to go through that. I don't know how this spreads. I don't know if it's permanent. I don't know a lot of things so I need you to listen to me because this is important. Very important."

She nodded.

"The world out there? It's not like my video games. Do you remember the Walking Dead? This isn't like that. It's different and I need you to understand that because the sooner you do, the sooner we can adapt," I sighed and looked at her slightly worried face, "You're going to see things. Horrible things. Things I wish you would never see. Dead people? Zombies? It's only the tip of the iceberg. I don't know what we will see. I don't even know what we will do but I need you to promise me that you won't let fear control you. For the sake of yourself as well as I. I will protect you till the end of my life, but you have to help me." I watched her expression, pleading with her. She blinked slowly and then nodded, a shaky smile on her lips.

"Okay, Felix. Okay I promise." She leaned in and kissed me on the lips softly before standing up. Surprise was definitely in my thoughts. It went as easily as I exaggerated and I'm not sure if that is a good thing. Nonetheless, I followed suit and we gingerly walked around the corpse on the floor. It was definitely dead. Well… more dead than before.

As a final, sad thought, I called out to her, "Marzia."

She turned and faced me.

"If it comes down to it and I do get bitten. If I do change or is in the process, I will need you to shoot me right in the head," I pointed to my forehead with a bitter smile. "Like in the Walking Dead. If… if you get bitten, I want you to tell me. Please tell me."

Marzia blinked slowly and I could catch the faint glisten in her eyes.

"Okay. I will."

I let out a sigh of relief and smiled and she reflected it quickly.

We walked to the bed where our suitcases still lay. Clothes were strewn out across the beige comforter, some folded some not. Marzia didn't hesitate in giving me two shirts to put on: a long black sleeved shirt with a grey short sleeve on top. I slipped it on quickly as she changed from her stunning sundress to skinny jeans and a grey tank top with a dark blue hoodie. She pulled her hair up into a hair tie and grabbed her bag, emptying all the contents on the bed with everything else.

"Until we find a bigger bag we will have to use my purse, yes?" She asked me cautiously as I gave her a weird look. I blinked quickly before nodding. She was right. She didn't look like she wanted to be but she was right. For once I was glad that she loved large purses. Didn't think they would ever be useful.

She continued packing the necessities. A shirt for each of us, some snacks we snuck aboard the plane, and some deodorant. As an afterthought, she gave me my laptop and my phone.

When I took the laptop, I stared at it while she stuck her own phone, the exact same as my own, into her pocket.

"Perhaps… you should write about this. You know. In case this ends and people wonder what happened, right?" She smiled at me and I chuckled.

"Yeah but who would listen to a Swedish guy who was a has-been on YouTube? Doesn't give me much validation not to mention that I have nowhere to charge this," I pointed out and she rolled her eyes.

"It's better than nothing. If anything, we can go to some sort of electronic store. They must have laptop batteries or generators, right? Also, I'm sure those people won't care whether it was a four-year-old or an old man. Besides," her gaze got darker, sadder, "we can use it to write about every person we met and knew at one time. So nobody would forget them…"

I didn't reply, simply humming in agreement. What do you say to that? Nothing was a better response than actual words.

Within five minutes we were ready to leave and out the door, me in front and Marzia behind me. Our movements weren't trained to this lifestyle but we still tried. Practice as they say and I'm glad it was just that. Marzia didn't seem to have the hang of it yet. She was stiff and unsure while I was languid and nimble, used to this environment. I wasn't as accustomed as video game characters or TV actors, but I managed to pull it off well. I guess old habits die hard.

Silence was a common aspect in the world now. No birds were chirping and not a breath of air was whispering past the trees. It was quiet and I didn't like it. I needed ambiance. I needed something to break this wall or paranoia will certainly grow.

I didn't express this to Marzia. Less worry. Less fright. Less of a chance of being killed.

I looked around, opening every door to make sure no walkers resided in the rooms. When it was clear that none were in the building - or at least down this hall - I motioned for Marzia to follow me. She did with worry very evident. I wanted to console her, tell her everything was going to be alright, but that would be a lie. I wasn't a seer. I couldn't predict the future but I could assure her that everything was not going to be fine. I just stayed quiet and offered a halfhearted smile in her direction.

We moved silently until we reached the first floor, the view of crashed cars and dead bodies clear for anybody who glanced outside the once beautiful entrance-way. Marzia tried to appear like she wasn't fazed by this but I wasn't fooled so easily.

Appearing by her side, I grabbed her hand and she squeezed back tightly.

"I would love to tell you it gets better… but…" she shook her head slowly, cutting me off.

"I know. I just don't like it. I mean, what of your parents and my own? What of our friends? What of Cry?" She had a point. I didn't have a clue on how Cry was, especially since this all happened. I'm sure the cell towers are down along with any inkling of internet. We were in the dark and I was worried that he might already be gone…

 _'Don't be ridiculous,'_ I thought ignorantly, _'He's Cry! He's an amazing gamer like I am and even better! I'm sure he is already prepared for this as I speak. Nothing to worry about._

I paused.

"Felix? I found a gun…" I heard Marzia shout and looked around before finding her behind the receptionist desk. When had she let go of my hand? When I was worrying over Cry?

"Is it full?" I asked and then added after, "Actually, can you hand it to me? I don't think you would know much of this."

She tossed the gun and I caught it with ease, checking it. I sighed in relief when I noticed only one bullet had been used. Granted that was one less that I could have used, but still. It was better than nothing. Definitely. No complaints here. I honestly didn't expect to find one at all.

"Any ammo back there?" I questioned and she looked at me oddly. "Um... a box that has these cylinder things in there?" I tried to draw it and failed miserably but she got it anyway. Going through the stuff behind the desk, she pulled up a few boxes that were definitely ammo boxes.

Praise the holy duck for this miracle.

Wait what?

Where was I?

Right. Boxes. Catching them.

I caught the boxes with ease when she tossed them in my direction and I inspected them further, very pleased when they were for the gun she presented earlier. The odds of that happening were slim to none. I was glad that luck was still in my favor. For now.

When Marzia came to meet me, I placed the ammo in her bag but kept the scarcely used weapon on hand.

Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out my smaller gun and gave it to Marzia, briefly showing her how to hold it, where to pull the trigger, and how to aim. Three bullets were gone, leaving two, but she shouldn't have to ever shoot that thing unless it was one of those rare occasions where I wasn't near her. That would be never.

The world was cold and the bodies even more so. I didn't want her to join them. Not when I am here capable of protecting her.

Anyways, she looked at the gun like it was a grave, sad lines creasing her face.

"Only use it if you're in danger." She didn't reply. Perhaps we should leave before she gets too sad. The outside world should help her mood.

Actually, no. It wouldn't. Even outside I could see bodies and death lingering above like whispers. She would still be sad. The only thing I could do was to allow her to get used to it. It would take a while but I will suffer with her gladly. The sooner she is adapted, the sooner we can move on.

"Ready?" I prompted as we aligned with the entrance-way of the hotel we stayed at.

"I... yes. I'm ready." I rose my brow at her hesitancy but she walked ahead of me, the sign she didn't want to tell me what was on her mind. Well, I wasn't going to push it. At least not now that she has a gun. God women are scarier enough. The weapon just adds that fatal wow factor… that I so didn't request.

I followed her slowly and lazily, taking a brief moment to value the scene since no zombies hoarded the area.

I don't know what I expected when we walked out. I wanted it to be like the Last of Us where it was beautiful apocalyptic atmosphere and scenery along with danger, but this was the beginning. It was still going to smell of a mixture of city fumes and salt water. Trimmed grass was not going to overflow in waves and retaliation. Safe havens wouldn't exist. At least, not now. Maybe later in a few years.

Would I even be alive that long?

 _'Ah, pewds. Don't think like that. Could get ya killed you know.'_ Cry's voice echoed in my head and I smiled, shaking my head slightly and going on with my landscape assessment.

But no, this wasn't beautiful. There was nothing beautiful about this sight. It was gruesome and revolting and, at the very most, depressing and hopeless. Bodies were strewn half eaten or full of blood and bullets. Decapitated walkers were very little of these. Cars were in various forms of accidents ranging from pile ups to ramming the bumper. School buses and cabs were in utter disarray and abandon.

It was a scene of death. A sight that the reaper would be ever so proud of.

And I felt, for some stupid reason, that I should have done something to stop it all. I felt like this was my fault. Even though it wasn't. Even though I knew I couldn't have done anything to improve this situation or prevented it from ever happening. I still felt that way and it was like a mosquito in my skull.

Ugh.

"Felix?" I blinked and looked at Marzia. She was pointing somewhere and I followed her gaze to see something I didn't expect this early on.

Perhaps a few blocks down, a man was walking and I could easily tell walker from ordinary. I couldn't tell much besides a green jacket and a backpack, but it was still something. It still looked human. Hopefully it was.

"Should we go meet whoever that is?"

I nodded, "Yeah. Just stay behind me and out of his sight until I know it's safe." _I will protect you until my last breath and if you die I won't be far off._

Because Marzia is my life right now. Besides my friends, who I have no idea are alive, she is the only one that is certainly breathing with me right now. Cry, Ken, Minx: They might be dead or alive right now.

I really hoped that they were out there surviving.

And most importantly, not alone.

Because people who are alone have no one to rely on and end up dying with no one to remember who they were before all this.

Like a tombstone with no name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So yeah. Just posting the chapters I have so far on fanfiction.net by this point. 
> 
> I don't know if the Swedish was right in this for I am not a native speaker nor do I know any sources. I mean, there is Pewdiepie, but I don't think he ever said this...
> 
> But it translates to "I'm so fucking stupid" hopefully. For all of you who know the language, I'm sorry if it's wrong and please correct me.


	3. Chapter 3: Abnormal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know what?
> 
> I'm just going to say this right now.
> 
> I fucking KNEW this would happen.
> 
> Sometime in my lifetime. Sometime in some other person's lifetime. I didn't care. I just knew that this would happen. So many movies and video games about this that somebody was bound to make some sort of virus to actually recreate the effect right? Common sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise surprise! A beginning note. Yeah, I'm sure you have realized that the last chapter was Felix's point of view. I plan to bring in the main group and then add in the other's I have planned as I go. 
> 
> By the way, this may be the more amusing chapter than the past. At least, until pole dancing Markiplier comes into play sometime in the next few chapters. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Chapter 3: Abnormal

MINX POV

You know what?

I'm just going to say this right now.

I fucking KNEW this would happen.

Sometime in my lifetime. Sometime in some other person's lifetime. I didn't care. I just knew that this would happen. So many movies and video games about this that somebody was bound to make some sort of virus to actually recreate the effect right? Common sense.

Granted, I suppose it would have been nice if it waited a few weeks. I mean, if I had a heads up I would probably have brought a gun of some sort of even a katana. Just something as protection because everyone knows that once you're in a zombie apocalypse, charm and adorableness isn't going to save you anytime soon. That's one hell of a one-way ticket towards the afterlife.

But nonetheless, if it had to choose a day to occur, Cry's birthday was the prime day to do exactly just that.

"Michelle?" I looked over at Krism. She was leaning forward on her seat, the seatbelt straining against her as she narrowed her eyes ahead. "What is that? Wait… no. Who is that?"

Blinking, I strained my eyes ahead and saw what she meant. Was that an actual human or just another walker? I mean, really. We've already seen plenty, but we drove past them instead of full on engaging. It wasn't that we were incapable because that was nothing but utter lies; it's just that if we had a way to avoid it, we were going to avoid it. Don't take on something if you can diverge from it altogether.

"Zombie or human?" I muttered, brushing a purple strand out of my face.

Krism shook her head, "Honestly? I don't know. It looks and walks human like, but it could well be an infected person." I shrugged and continued driving, slowing down.

The human-zombie-thing was definitely… a sight to see. It was fairly obese looking and sported a white Eskimo hoodie with a white hat and… pretty much everything and anything white. It was hobbling left and right. I watched with amusement when it tried to roll over the steel guards on the side of the road.

"What should we do?" Krism asked and I pursed my lips, shrugging.

"Run it over?" I offered and then grinned. Oh god, what if I hit it so hard that it flew a few feet in the air before bouncing? God that would be priceless! Hilarious as well. Oh God.

I didn't hear Krism's reply for I was already picking up speed. I noticed the snowman-zombie-human-thing pull down its white face guard. A second later a muffled "stop" sounded out and I paused. I was already speeding up past 60 mph. If I slow down now, I can probably just kind of hit him – just a small tap compared to a full on collision. He'll still get hit, but it will be a kind of hit.

"Hold on," I spoke with a grin as I meticulously slowed down.

As we neared the snowman, who was now waving its arms, I slowed down. It was a very even descent. Not a screech to be heard.

I was right in the end. I did end up hitting it.

Well, not really hitting it. More like it bumped it and the snowman… fell over.

And rolled away.

Over an actual zombie who had no legs. It looked confused as fuck when the squealing and mildly cursing man rolled off of it and continued to kind of… loll away. I held back snickers as Krism laughed lightly. Why did the internet have to go down so early? I would have loved to post this.

"Should we help him?" Krism questioned and I sighed.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess." Rummaging through the back seat, I pulled out a gift wrapped box.

Krism didn't let my ripping at the paper go unheard. "Hey! Isn't that for Cry?"

I shrugged, "Was for Cry. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I used it. Besides, I've wanted to swing this baby since we bought it." Opening the case, I pulled out the katana. It was sleek and brand new. My fingers itched to wrap themselves around its bandaged wrapped handle. Oh, all the games I have played and wished to be the actual attacker.

My dreams have come true at last.

"Minx!" I blinked and looked up to see Krism rolling her eyes at me. "Stop drooling over the blade." I wiped my mouth and gave her a cheeky grin. She chuckled but moved around me to unlock the doors.

Pulling the key out of the ignition, I stick the keys in my jeans and wrap my fingers around the blade. Krism pulled out a pocket knife that we always had in the glove compartment. I was tempted to mention just how bad ass she looked sporting that knife but decided that perhaps it wasn't the best time at this moment. It would still earn a blinding grin though which would still make it totally worth it.

When we got out of the vehicle, we were immediately hit with the muggy air that Florida was well known for. It was warm and the underlying stench of death hung in the air like a thin layer of fog. I crinkled my nose and noticed Krism doing the same. It's amazing how a few hours can change the world so drastically.

I didn't waste time. I mean, I have been wanting to use this weapon for the longest time. Slicing and dicing, blood along the asphalt. I've played too many murderer games and apocalyptic scenarios and now my fingers were itching to attack.

Krism called me rash a lot. She called me a lot of things on occasion when I went through things without methodically thinking things through. Thick headed and imprudent being the most common. These were definitely there in the air as she shouted after me. It was too late. I was already dashing down the concrete, sneakers slapping asphalt and eyes sharpening as I approached the figure that may or may not be a zombie.

If I had taken my time and observed the scene, I suppose I could have done better taking care of the problem. I could have seen the marshmallow figure waving around and pointing next to me. I could have avoided another zombie grasping my leg and bringing me down.

"God dammit!" I cried in outrage, annoyed that of all things to stop me it would be a blasted zombie.

I growled as I heard Krism's shriek and kicked the zombie in the face, getting up briefly before the same one grabbed my foot. It tried to munch on my sneakers, but it was a no-go. Thank god for that. Krism was on her way, but I was stubborn. I could take care of this.

By this point, Mr. White-and-Fluffy was currently squawking at the zombie that was trying to grasp him in its decomposing fingers. I managed to once again kick of the zombie, with a little more force to hopefully postpone it for the time being, and walked over to the legless creature.

Grinning – possibly maniacally – I slash the katana in my grip and watch with satisfaction as the head of the legless zombie rolled off. I held back a snicker as the blood spray fell on the white marshmallow. He sounded so feminine it was amusing. For funsies, I wiped my (yes it is now mine. I used it. Cry isn't here. This is now mine) katana blade along the white jacket, giggling at the squeals I got.

I lightly tap him with my bloodied sneakers. He immediately cried out with "No! Don't eat me! I'm too young to die!"

I rolled my eyes and kept tapping him, watching as he rocked back and forth. All the while he kept wailing as if he totally didn't see me decapitate a zombie in front of him.

"I'm too beautiful!" I scoffed and he pouted. "Too handsome?" I rolled my eyes again and was tempted to scare him.

In all that, I temporarily forgot about the other zombie.

Letting out a shriek of surprise, I felt my leg being pulled back and fell. The zombie – efficient little devil – didn't hesitate to climb up my legs to get closer to my face. I clenched my fingers around the handle of my katana only to find it was no longer in my grasp. I struggled under the dead weight (literally) to look for it and found it just out of my reach. Stretching, I grunted to grab the blade before those decomposing maulers feasted on my blood.

Behind me, Mr. I-Shriek-Like-A-Bloody-Girl was crying out for help. I would have chewed his ass out had I not been pinned under this persistent zombie. Ugh. How can a dead person weigh this much? I swear it looked so much easier in video games.

"Krism?" I called out wearily as the zombie's yellow eyes began to show too much HD for its close proximity.

"On it, love." With that I felt the movement of the walker – er… crawler – cease. The body went rigid and stiff. A second later, someone above me kicked it aside and the head lolled with it so I can finally appreciate my savior.

Krism stood with the army knife tightened in her grip. Her eyes were steel and blood now dripped off the blade slowly.

I grinned. "Did I ever tell you that you look too sexy for your own good carrying that knife?"

Rolling her eyes, Krism smirked, holding out her hand. "Too many times actually. Every time when trying to flatter me out of scolding you if I remember correctly."

Grasping her hand, I allowed her to help me up. After dusting pants, I smiled cheekily at my lovely wife. "I don't remember doing any of that. Clearly you are mistaken. Am I not allowed to compliment my kick ass wife?"

Krism's face reddened a gorgeous shade of red but she nudged me, not having a remark to shoot back. I chuckled and turned so we were both facing the white marshmallow of a man.

"Now then," I began, lightly kicking the man, "who are you? Clearly you're not a walker and I don't think you are bitten unless a zombie miraculously evolved with some meter long teeth to boot."

The white-dressed man ceased his moving and I could hear a sigh escape from somewhere. "Help me take all this off, will you? I'd think you would recognize me by now."

I glanced at Krism and saw she too was furrowing her brows at his remark. Shrugging, we get to taking off the clothing.

Five minutes later and we were still removing layers.

"How many layers of clothing do you have on?" I complained loudly, forcing a parka off of his shoulders as Krism pulled off one of his many beanies. "How are you not sweating in there anyways? I don't know if you realize this, but you are in fucking Florida."

The man rolled his eyes as he watched us. He couldn't really do much since his arms were so restricted. After a few seconds of grumbling, he smiled mirthfully and spoke all-knowingly, "I was born in a toaster you know. I have kind of a long endurance when it comes to being burnt on the edges."

_Toaster… where have I heard that before?_

Glaring at his apparent joking self, I pull off a plaid shirt. It was here that I realized we were close to his first layers. Mostly by the thick sheen of sweat that was beginning to pour through. Scrunching my nose, I tugged at the rest of his shirts until what was left was a black long sleeve shirt with a red tee over top of it. The little icon on it was a piece of toast with headphones, a kitty face smiling at whatever it saw.

I paused. When I peered up at Krism, I watched her pull off the last hat to reveal the infamous bear beanie.

Then I looked at the "stranger" again.

Wait a second.

Wait one god damn minute.

"Ken?!" I cried out, jumping to my feet.

The bearded man grinned brightly back at me, clearly amused. Krism let out a loud sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

I pointed my finger at him in accusation. "Why didn't you tell me it was you?"

He scoffed. "How was I to know you would believe me with those crazy eyes and a fudging katana? You could have cut me in half! I didn't have a death wish thank you very much."

"I would never…" But one look from Krism and I pouted. "Okay, I wouldn't have done it on purpose. It would have been purely accidental."

"And fatal!" Ken added with a shriek.

"But quick," I backfired. Ken glared at me for a second before sighing. Slowly, he reached over and began removing the layers of pants he somehow fit on himself until he was left with a pair of jeans and tennis shoes. Standing, he rolled his shoulders and stretched.

"Well, whatever. It didn't happen. So, I guess you two are also going to Cry's party?"

"Were," we both corrected in unison.

Ken paused and then rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Yeah… I suppose it would be a "were", yeah?" He sighed and pulled out a small box he had in his pocket. Judging by the somewhat ripped wrapping paper, it must have been a gift for Cry. "Man… what a way to start your 25th birthday."

I nodded, a growing sense of worry for my might-as-well-be brother. Who knew how well he was doing right now. He could be fighting his way through thick and thin – with what I didn't even want to consider – or he could be…

The thoughts were quickly dashed aside. I can't panic. If I panic that will only lead to death. Every single video game has taught me this. I will not panic. At least, not until I see Cry… or his body.

Ken stuffed the package back into his pocket before peering over our shoulders at the rent vehicle we obtained. "So, I assume it is just you gals, huh?"

"Yup. We haven't really come across any stragglers until you and those two walkers just now. Seems very… dead at the moment. I'm not really sure what to make of it." In fact, there really wasn't any sign that the apocalypse really hit until we actually got into Florida. The first time we had stopped was at a gas pump around the beginning of this I would say. Thank God for Krism's quick thinking otherwise my neck would have been chewed on by the cashier at the register.

For once, everything was silent. When I looked up at Ken, I found him kind of shuffling from foot to foot, staring pointedly at the car as if wanting to ask but afraid I would cut his head off.

"Oh bloody hell…" I muttered under my breath before punching him in the shoulder. "Come on you. We should have enough room to fit you in there." He blinked at us before breaking into a grin and whooping loudly, practically skipping towards the car.

Krism and I exchanged a look and shrugged.

A few minutes and a revved engine later and we were off down the street once more.

After a few minutes of the silence, I quickly couldn't take it. Apparently I was the only one because Ken and Krism were fine. Well, too bad. I was driving and I needed conversation. Badly.

"So…" I began after a minute. "Care to explain why you were in the middle of nowhere wearing more or less 15 layers of clothing?"

I peered into the rearview mirror at Ken. He met my gaze and laughed a little nervously.

"It's a long story…" he tried to avoid unsuccessfully.

"I've got a long drive ahead of me," I retorted.

We glared at each other through the rear view mirror until he sighed.

"Okay…" Ken took a deep breath. "Okay. Well, you see… It kind of all began when I was at the mall. Kind of got here a day early and still hadn't found a gift for Cry, you know? He's not the easiest guy to shop for." Ken shuddered and I had a feeling that he found more than a simple gift.

"Well, I found this really neat jacket and a small little key chain that seemed just Cry's style. After grabbing a few other cool stuff I found, I slammed it on the counter and was reaching over to pull out some greens. I didn't look at the cashier and didn't really question anything when I didn't see her start scanning the bar codes… or when she began to moan uncontrollably. I don't know why I didn't now that I think about.

"I looked up and her back happened to be me. I didn't know what to do to break being some awkward guy so I kind of threw a pick up line on her. A simple one-liner. "Is your father a thief because I think he stole the stars and put them in your eyes" kind of pick up line. However, when she turned around, she definitely wasn't like she seemed.

"She just all of a sudden flopped on the counter like a freaking fish! I jumped back and barely avoided her decomposed skin and loose eyeball hitting me. She looked decrepit. It… I thought I was in a nightmare. That I had played too much walking dead, ya know? Maybe slept with the TV on since it wouldn't be the first time. I pinched myself and nothing."

Ken grew quiet and I waited for him to continue. He clearly had it worse than Krism and I. We ran into a few zombies, but not face to face until I met Ken. Even when we did, I had Krism to back me up, being a total bad ass with a Swiss army knife. Ken had nobody.

"I ran towards the dressing room, absently throwing the keychain in my pocket. I locked it but I knew it wouldn't last. You know how they have the whole openings at the bottom of dressing room doors?" I nodded to show I was listening. "Well, she must have been one smart zombie because she immediately saw the opportunity and not a second too soon her arms were flailing underneath the opening. Luckily, in the room nobody had come to pick up the past clothing from others who had used the room and one thing led to another and eventually I had every piece of clothing on me. The logic was that if I had so much layers of clothing on me, they wouldn't be able to bite through to my skin. I know it left my face open, but it was kind of spur of the moment."

Ken chuckled humorously for a few seconds and I rose my eyebrows questioningly at him. What could be so bloody funny about all that? Granted the fact that he was stuck in a dressing room of all things aside, I saw no other reason.

"When I opened the door, I kind of… tripped with all the weight I had on and rolled over her. Like I did earlier. I remember screaming "no, no no!" the entire time before realizing that I had apparently killed her. Things went by pretty quickly. Found a few extra layers of clothing. Stole a bike. Fell off since the restriction of all the clothing. Took a nap. Woke up and then I met you gals." He grinned at us like we were saviors. I rolled my eyes.

However, I couldn't get rid of the fact that there was something seriously off about all of this. If the walkers had already contaminated the store, Ken would have realized immediately. Any gamer would react immediately and gotten out of there.

"Ken, was there anybody else in the store? Or in the mall in general?"

He thought about it for a second before nodding. "Yes. It was a normal day. Well, it was. When I walked into the mall, there were plenty of people, but when I walked out there was nearly nobody. The store in itself was empty when I first got there so I didn't think much of it. But I didn't even hear a word or scream from the mall at all." He pursed his lips and shrugged. "But I was in my own little world of terror so it could have happened and I wouldn't have heard anything."

Nothing? Ugh. This is too weird. At first I thought it was government contamination but for all I know it could be deliberate. This seems deliberate. How can one person go along her day and then suddenly turn into a zombie without anybody noticing? It would have to be slow acting. With all the experience with the HD screen, it could have been anything from spiking the air or medicine, to an actual attack.

But I don't have anything to go on. Just one person's account.

Still, I had a feeling that this wasn't normal.

This wasn't just some random contamination break.

Even if I was excited for the sudden ability to kill without crime and claim self-defense, I didn't feel calm knowing it was purposely influenced.

Damn it.

So much for a nice birthday weekend.


	4. Chapter 4: Suspicion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Man, give the world a night and it will effectively take the opportunity to turn to shit.

Chapter 4: Suspicion

_Man, give the world a night and it will effectively take the opportunity to turn to shit._

All around me were crashed vehicles – windshields broken into and steering wheels left unattended. Some of the leather seats were stained with dried blood and some had the driver door left wide open to sport the attempted flee of the owner. Tires were slashed and more than a few bumpers were caved in from crashes.

The streets themselves were a mess and that was putting it lightly. My steps had to be deliberate and watched constantly so I wouldn't stand on a corpse, a piece of metal, or even other weapons – all of them mashed in on the barrel if a gun or broken in half if a blade. Trying to be silent in this neighborhood was nearly impossible but I managed.

And considering the scene, I think that counts for a lot.

Corpses littered the floor, both dead and undead. Some of them had skin and blood, body fluids and body parts melting off like some terrible horror movie. Others were just suffering from broken bones and the like that eventually tallied up to fatality. Car crashes, as stated before, were everywhere and that wasn't an understatement.

There were more dead and desolate than any of the lively components Florida had before.

Stores were all saying "Closed" in their windows. When I peered in they had nothing. It seemed whoever owned them were smart and took everything they could for bartering or for their own purposes. Wish I had thought of that. You know, taking whatever I can and run. At the time I think I was mainly just trying to leave the scene of the crime before it grew hands and stuck to my back like a second skin.

I shuddered when I thought of those dead eyes following me. Molding fingers gripping my shoulders with claws digging in between my shoulder blades. It was not a pretty sight to imagine.

But I shook my head and the image dissipated like it never had been there in the first place. Like swishing your fingers in the water to morph your reflection.

No, I got to stay optimistic. Even when the world decided to flip upside down and suddenly partner with death, I have to be move on. Wallow and mourn and you have already given yourself a death timer until Mr. Reaper is poking your shoulder to catch your attention. Scythe pointed towards the red digits on your clock that are narrowing second by second to zero.

Sorry, but I wasn't ready to die yet.

It could be a lot of things that caused me to think like this. The need to live, the want to survive and tell the world of all the shit I had to deal with. Perhaps to find my friends and team up so we get out of this together. You know, go to another state, go north even – back to New York where it's colder and the zombies wouldn't be as active or quick.

Another part was fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of what could happen. Fear if there was even an afterlife to look forward to or even a place for reincarnation. That's the common fear. The fear everyone probably has at this moment.

But for me it was something else. I was afraid of reality. Not monsters. Not ghosts. Not impossibilities. I was afraid of the world in all of its honest terrors. And that's saying something. Why be afraid of the unknown? The possible? The "out there" scenarios? They were never going to be as terrifying as what reality throws in your face - when you have a terror right in front of you compared to paranoia of what could be.

And right now reality decided to throw a sucker punch. It decided to go "Hey guys. You know, things are getting kind of dull so let's throw in a disease". It threw a fucking curve ball and everyone is suffering for it.

But hey, it's real. And that's why people are afraid.

That's why I am afraid and that's why I am not ready to die.

God only knew how many of my friends would kick my ass in the afterlife if they realized that I had given up instead of fighting tooth and nail.

Shuffling past the shop I peered in earlier, I look in and peer at the date. I knew I probably shouldn't since it didn't really matter what day it was, but I still found my gaze glancing at the red circle around the day.

_June 11._

Man, was that the day? Double sure? Triple sure?

I scoffed and shook my head, choosing to ignore it and walk ahead, meandering between cars and corpses like they were obstacle courses in an inflatable attraction. Of course, all of this would happen on my birthday. You know, go out with a fucking bang.

I tried to make light of the situation, of the date choice, but seeing all those dead eyes staring at me and accusing the fact that I was alive quickly narrowed it to morose.

It was quiet for some reason. In any other game, zombies would be infesting the area, they would crowd and mob and chase me out of town. However, I haven't seen a single zombie since I left the flat. Only the wind and the occasional creak of complaining metal met my ears as I stepped and avoided debris or body part.

Then again, I'm comparing this to video games and nothing was ever like a video game. War and the military was not going to be like Call of Duty so a zombie apocalypse was certainly never going to be similar to the Last of Us or the Walking Dead. It would be nice! Hell, it would be awesome if it was like that because at least I would have a basis to go off of, an outline of what to expect and what I should watch out for.

This was an anomaly, reality. For all I knew, these zombies could be like vampires and run from sunlight screeching in fear of being burnt to ashes.

Chuckling at the idea, I began to cross a street. Upon impulse, I looked both ways twice before continuing on. It didn't occur to me until I was halfway across that I would never have to look both ways. Most of the cars were out of commission and those that still worked would never be able to maneuver through this traffic jam.

Best to keep the habit though. Just so I can remember of little things like this and cherish the days I cursed at crazed drivers with an itching hand to press the horn on their car.

My foot bumped into something and I stopped. Looking down I realized it was a camera. The old-fashioned sort that printed out the picture as soon as it was taken. Polaroid, probably a 600 by the looks of it. It was still in good condition, little scratches here and there but otherwise perfectly fine. I furrowed my brows and looked around it only to find what must have been the owner of the tech.

He was an elderly man, dead by being pressured under a car. He wasn't even bitten or anything. Just at the wrong place at the wrong time.

I frowned and picked up the camera. It still had plenty of film left in it. Shrugging, I placed the old thing around my neck and let it fall lifelessly against my chest. I was starting to feel like a pack rat with all the stuff I had on.

Adjusting the newly placed weight, I sighed and kicked a rock, watching it skid across the street and bounce off a tire. It was only a little noise but it could have been an explosion with how eerily silent it was around here. Forget a pin drop sounding like an explosion. It might as well be an atomic bomb.

It's funny how when you live in a big city the only thing you want is silence, however, when you get silence you suddenly want something to break it.

I realized quickly that I was one of these people.

Fixing my mask, I began to pick up my pace again, the slapping of converse on the asphalt becoming my new best friend. The sleeves of my jacket had been rolled up to my elbows with the rolling waves of heat. Sweat was dripping down my face and becoming uncomfortable but the occasional breeze that found its way between the buildings helped.

I was eternally grateful for the mask. The smell of death and humidity was a terrible mixture with the accompanying weather. It was like an amplifier. An effect on a sound program to make it suddenly echo and become louder, imminent. The small filter on mouth of the mask definitely helped me breathe.

Every so often, I would catch a glimpse of a reflection. The white sheen of sunlight hitting metal. The shiv I had created to murder my mate. I hated looking at the thing. It was like a bittersweet accomplice or a "frenemy" that offered affectionate insults. You hated the damn thing but you needed it so you couldn't exactly get rid of it.

God this was so fucked up.

I shook my head and continued towards the other side of the street. I have a long way to go before I'm even close to being out of Florida.

"Hey!" I froze.

Is my mind playing tricks on me?

Because for a split second that sounded human… and strangely like someone that should be in Sweden right now. Or Italy, somewhere in Europe. Wherever it was, it certainly should not be here.

Still, when I turned around, I found my vision face to face with a certain blonde hair blue eyed Swede. Behind him, kind of weary, was a woman with long brown hair. I presumed this to be Marzia.

I should be saying something, right? Yeah, maybe I should. Being silent is awkward. Man, how does one move lips again? Kind of forgot that one still needs to converse in a zombie apocalypse. Come on. Just reply.

"Can you speak?" Felix asked cautiously, one arm pushing Marzia behind him. I wanted to roll my eyes but instead found myself blushing at his remark. It was nowhere near mocking but it still made me feel incredibly stupid. Thank God for this mask.

Nodding, I turned to face him and adjusted my mask to make sure it covered my face. Even though I knew I could take it off, I didn't want to remove my mask. At least, not yet.

What if he saw the murderer I saw?

Yes, I am aware that this is paranoia. Intense paranoia. Paranoia I never knew I had until this fucked up situation happened. It was outrageously false and probably more than a little irrational. Yeah, I know.

However, I still didn't see any good reason to take the mask off anyways.

"Hi friend," I smiled even though I knew he would never see it.

Felix blinked and I watched as his mind processed my voice. I swear I could see a floating download bar over his head slowly reaching hundred. Fifty percent in it paused.

He narrowed his eyes although this time it was suspicious. Oh god. Really. Should I really write my name on my mask? A gigantic "Cry" in sharpie?

Sighing, I looked at him straight in the eyes. "Don't worry about it, Pewds."

That's all it took for the fifty percent to go straight to a hundred.

"Cry?!" Felix cried, clearly surprised.

I brought my fingers as if to tip a hat in his direction. "The one and only. May I ask what brought you to this neck of the woods?"

Felix sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. "Actually, you see… we kind of planned to throw some sort of surprise party for your birthday."

"We?" I clarified and Felix laughed.

"Yeah. Minx had the idea and the rest of us just chipped in. Ken, Krism, Mark, the Late Night Crew. We were planning to invite you somewhere and celebrate." He glanced around and the smile fell. "Well, at least that was the plan. To be honest, you are the first human Marzia and I have met who wasn't dead."

The first? Didn't he just come out of a hotel room? Surely there are more people alive in there than them two. Not everyone is a damsel in distress for this scenario. Some are always ready for the day this occurs. I was curious where those people went.

Blinking, I realized I had kept silent for too long. Talk about awkward, haha.

I leaned to peer behind Felix to look at Marzia and waved.

"Oh hi. I don't think we've met. You can just call me Cry. I'm your boyfriend's friend." I made my tone lighthearted, which wasn't too hard. Their new arrival kind of lifted my mood from all the depressing atmosphere a bit.

I waited for Marzia's look to change from suspicion to acceptance. It was a scene to watch. I mean, she must know me by at least my voice, right? Everyone apparently knows me by my voice.

Eventually, Marzia walked around Felix and placed a delicate hand on his arm. "I've heard a bit about you from Felix. My name is Marzia."

I made a bow and smiled as she giggled. I heard Felix mutter a few words but when I looked at him he just smirked and rolled his eyes.

"Now then, greetings are out of the way. Where were you guys planning on going?" I swept my hand in a 180 to generally encompass the city. "As you can see, there isn't much left here."

Felix shrugged. "Honestly? We didn't know. We literally just got out of our hotel when we spotted you. It was purely coincidental."

"Well, that's great." I smiled even though I knew he couldn't see it. "I was planning on making my way city by city until I'm out of Florida. You know, each city or town make a pit stop, gather supplies, the like. I was hoping to find a car and hot wire it once I got out of the downtown area."

Felix was looking at me but I wasn't sure if he was really looking at me or the mask. Either way he was frowning which more than confused me.

"What's with the mask? It's humid as fuck out here. Are you not sweating under that?" He reached up to grab my mask and I quickly took a step back to avoid him making contact. I saw him flinch and pull his arm down. It made me feel bad. It really did, but I didn't want him to see me.

You know, vicious circle back to paranoia and all that.

Awkward silence ensued until someone's stomach growled. It wasn't mine and judging by the look on Marzia's face, it wasn't her.

I rose a brow at Felix and he chuckled with embarrassment.

"Yeah, we kind of don't have any food at the moment. The hotel was bare and we haven't come across any stores that still have anything in them. Do you…?"

"Have it covered, friend." Swinging my backpack onto the ground, I unzipped it and pulled out a few granolas and three bottles of water. Handing one of each to Marzia and Felix, I grabbed the third water bottle and opened it, taking a swig immediately. The other two quickly followed suit.

"Thanks...Cry." Marzia smiled and tucked the water bottle in her purse.

"Yeah, thanks. You're a life saver." I laughed and shook my head.

"No, I'm just prepared."

Felix hummed in agreement and peered at the camera around my neck with a quizzical look.

"I'm curious about the camera around your neck, actually. Why do you have it?"

I shrugged and saw the old man out of the corner of my vision. "I obtained it. Decided I could use it for memories or something to do." I paused and glanced at it. After a minute I shrugged off my back pack and lifted it off from around my neck. "Actually, do you want to take a selfie? You know, a picture to look back on and remember when it all began?"

Marzia and Pewds looked at each other before nodding.

"Hell yeah! Hashtag selfie. Hashtag zombie apocalypse. Hashtag…"

"Beginning?" I supplied and Felix nods.

"Yes! Come on let's take it!"

Rolling my eyes, I found the button and peered at Felix. He looked so excited, like a little kid.

"Alright, this thing is gonna have a flash and its instant. So say…."

"Pewdiepie!" Felix chirped and I smirked as Marzia and I did the same. I didn't really have to smile. I mean, a mask kind of defeats the purpose of that. Still, I held up a peace sign for the shits and giggles.

The image printed out and I waved it in the air a bit, waiting for it to develop. When it finally appeared, I showed it to Marzia and Felix. They both wanted to see it and after a small debate between the two love birds, we decided Marzia should keep it in her purse and not I in my backpack.

After that, the three of us continued to head west. Empty streets and even emptier buildings met our searching gazes. A few times we found food and other times we would find other little things we might need – like an official medical kit we found at a local clinic.

My mindset at the time was that if we continued along the streets, we should be able to make it eventually towards I-95. From there it was basically north – a straight path.

For the rest of the day it was easy. I don't mean easy in terms of relief or calm, I mean easy as in no walkers. It was a little disorienting. I kept checking every dark area and nothing. No growls came out of closets or from behind counters.

I didn't like this feeling I was having. The feeling that this was not exactly normal.

That in itself is hard to apply I guess. It's a zombie apocalypse. Nothing in this is exactly normal at all. Still, I found myself thinking it could get even weirder – even more abnormal than it already was with the spontaneous act of its beginning.

By evening, we managed to find a car with gas and a working battery. Nothing fancy, a abandoned blue Chevy, but it was practically a savior. Our feet were sore and our legs were like rubber. Luckily, we managed to get to the outskirts of the city. Felix and I scavenged through other cars to collect additional fuel for the road before hotwiring it. Marzia jumped in first, the back seat, and Felix got the passenger side. Since I knew St. Augustine better than them, I was the designated driver.

Before I hopped in, however, I heard a growl. Low and guttural, like it was coming out of one's stomach and not their throat.

Pausing, I looked around towards the growing shadows and increasing darkness. Another growl manifested from the depths of the unknown and I felt the hairs on my arms raise.

"Felix."

"Yeah, I hear them. They seem to be more active at night and run away to… somewhere during the day." He was leaning on the open door, observing the buildings and their false securities.

"If you had to guess, how much were there at night?"

He shrugged, flicking his gaze frequently over the deceiving shadows.

"Maybe a hoard? Something like that. It was a lot but not like the sort of crowd associated with concerts and such. Definitely busy."

I nodded and motioned him to get in the car.

The second I heard the growls grow in number I followed and began to rev the engine.

That's what drew out the walking corpses. The sound of the car. I knew it would. It was rather predictable. Still, that didn't make it one smidgeon easier to deal with.

Thank God we were already in it.

Slamming the gas, I managed to dodge a few walkers and hit a few others. Marzia let out squeals with each thump and roar of pain/outrage and clutched Felix's hand over the middle console. Felix himself was cursing under his breath and wincing at every impact.

One glance and I could see he was terrified. Shit, I will admit even I was terrified. One false move and I could have this car roll over with us inside and who knows what may happen after that. Yeah, we may get out. Yeah, we may be alright and not bitten. But we would have just lost our ride and one sole security during the night hours.

I swerved left and slowed down to avoid hitting a stop sign, grinding my teeth. My knuckles were white and a headache was brewing behind my eyes with the stress and pressure. Felix had grasped the edges of his seat while Marzia held onto her seatbelt with dear life.

God.

It was terrifying.

I should have a better vernacular. I realized now I had been saying it multiple times, but it was the only word which fit at that moment. Afraid? To minor. Horrified? To major. Terrified was the word and I knew that if it needed an image in the dictionary, this moment would be that prime example.

Spinning the wheel, I winced as the car ran over another of the undead. The car bumped over the corpse and continued going.

It felt like hours, avoiding and clashing, ramming and missing the zombies and their growls of rage and starvation. It was like somebody put the sound of their words on repeat and let it droll on it complete monotone.

And all I could think was "Let's keep going. We will keep going" because we needed an optimist and I didn't see the two Europeans next to me finding a bright light in this dark tunnel.

When the growls slowly subsided, I took a deep breath.

Glancing at the clock, it had only been five minutes.

Five minutes and we were out of the mess and on one of the quieter roads of St. Augustine. Five minutes and we were perfectly fine with no scratches or deaths to our names. Five minutes and everything was great.

Marzia peered through the rear view window and even Felix was checking every side just to make sure we were in the clear. I, however, was smiling. Just a little. Because living was great and I valued then so much more now. The undead does that to you I guessed.

"Words to remember," Felix said after a while, sinking into the chair like the adrenaline had sank out of him in an instant. "Don't go towards cities during night time."

"Agreed," I replied. From now on, if we have to be outside during the night, it will have to be in between cities or in the woods and preferably in a vehicle or shelter of some sort.

"Where are we now, Cry?" Marzia asked and I shrugged.

"I don't know. I know we are on the outskirts of the city, but that's as much as I'm going to know without signs and light."

"Oh… okay." Marzia was quiet after that. In fact, most of today she didn't really talk much in general. It was odd and a little worrying, even though I just met her, but I knew she was Felix's gal and so protecting her kind of came with protecting him.

I spared a glance in the rear view mirror and smiled. Apparently the only reason she didn't talk more was because she had passed out.

Nudging Felix, I cocked my head in Marzia's direction. He rotated around the passenger seat and an exhausted smile fell on his face when he saw her sleeping peacefully. Letting out a sigh, he plopped back into the seat. I shared a look with him and saw him shake his head.

Well, now's a good time as any to have a man to man talk I guess.

"What's on your mind, friend?"

He chuckled. "Nothing much. Just thinking of how Marzia shouldn't be a part of this. I shouldn't have pleaded for her to come. That sort of thing. You and me? We at least have some idea of what we are dealing with. She doesn't have that experience. I'm honestly afraid of losing her."

I hummed. "I can see that. You're clearly protective of her."

"Protective doesn't even begin it," he smiled fondly.

The drive was quiet with no radio or CDs to boot. I had my ipod and such but I wasn't going to kill the battery with breaking the silence. Besides, it wasn't really a painful silence, just a foreboding one.

The deafening quiet kept its pace for a bit before Felix broke it.

"Cry?"

"Yup?"

"Are you afraid?"

I paused before answering. "Yeah, man. I mean, how can you not be afraid? It's just I don't show it. It doesn't help to show fear in a fearful situation." I pursed my lips and added. "I kind of remember a quote I said a while back and move on. It makes my fears seem like an obstacle, something I should try to overcome."

"A quote? Really? Is it some cheesy movie quote?" Felix smirked and I chuckled.

"Nah man. I told you I said it. Gotta listen." Felix laughed softly when I lightly pushed him and I said. "But no. It's a long one, so you may be asleep by the time I finish."

"Hit me." I smacked him in the back of the head and he let out a yelp.

"Hey, you asked." I was grinning and I could tell Felix was too, although he tried to hide it behind a pout. It wasn't really working in his favor.

Felix glared at me. "You just wanted an excuse to hit me."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, totally."

Felix glanced back at Marzia and brushed a part of her hair out of her face. "So, tell me about this quote all-knowing Cry."

Taking a turn, I avoided an abandoned car and opened my mouth. "My idea of fear is something you cannot comprehend. Fear is something that happens to you. It pulls you out of your safe zone, it pulls you out of your comfort and it makes you feel powerless in your situation. It's something that builds and it keeps on feeding into one core aspect of making you completely vulnerable. You can't control it whenever it happens. You're powerless. You're completely alone. You don't have any means of getting back to safety. You have nothing. Fear is something that makes you irrational, something that puts you in a state of doing things you would not normally do. Like cry out for your mother. Sprinting towards anywhere, you don't know where, but you're just running as fast as you can; trying to get away, but you know deep down that you won't be able to. That's my definition of fear. You're just powerless."

I took a deep breath and awaited for Felix to say something. After a minute, he whistled.

"Color me impressed. How do you remember all of that?"

I shrugged. "I told you, I repeat it when I'm afraid. I admit I added a few things to it, but that's the gist of it. When fear hits, you're powerless. You're weak. You are irrational and you seek some way of escape. When you think of it like that, you realize you need to kind of become stronger and overcome that fear. Like when you're in a nightmare and you realize it's your nightmare and you say what exists and what doesn't."

Felix nodded. "I… yeah, you're right. When you put it like that, it makes fear seem a lot sillier than we think it is."

"Oh no, don't ever underestimate fear. I said overcome it, friend, not undermine it. Fear is still powerful. Don't just brush it off," I chastised and watched as Felix give me a confused look.

"What do you mean, then?"

I shrugged. "I mean, acknowledge it and understand it. Know it and become close to it. But the second you realize there is a way for you to break away, to become stronger than that person who befriended the fear, do it. Do it, but always reflect on that fear to aid in pursuing more determined horrors of reality."

I couldn't remember the last time I went into a deep conversation like this. Months? Years ago? It seems like a long time now. A past life in some effect. I mean, don't get me wrong, I was enjoying it. It was calming and relaxing compared to the disastrous city scape right now. It just felt really… different having it now.

You know, zombie apocalypse and you don't immediately jump the gun to have a meaningful conversation about fears and the like. That's something that would come over a beer at a party while you're sitting in the backyard, kind of avoiding the majority of it without leaving it.

But I suppose this worked too. I wasn't complaining.

I waited for Pewds to comment or give a snarky remark on what I said, but he must have been thinking over it. I didn't want to peer over at him yet since I still had enough cars on the roads that I needed to pay attention fairly often.

A few minutes passed and Felix said nothing.

Okay, I know he didn't think that hard over this sort of thing.

"Felix?"

I was met with soft snores. A sigh of relief escaped me, a silent fear being released I wasn't aware of, and I relaxed my grip on the steering wheel. Of course he was sleeping. Typical Pewds there.

Peering over at him, I realized that he actually was a lot handsomer than he gave himself credit for. Blue eyes and blonde hair? It was a combination that few could pull off successfully but he did just right. The moonlight was a terrible lighting – making him look like a fucking god like the traitor it was. He was a sexy man – full homo.

I snickered at the old little hashtag, smiling fondly at the tweet I let out on twitter once about it.

Nah, he was my friend. I would never think of him like that – homo or no homo.

Besides, he had Marzia and I wasn't too keen on breaking relationships with my family history in mind. Bad blood doesn't help in a situation where it's vital to keep good connections.

I tried talking to myself after a while. A few times complaining about how I missed my job, how I missed playing Bioshock Infinite and all those other games. How I missed my place and the great atmosphere there. I mentioned how I wished this was a nightmare in which my eminent death would kick me out of with a heavy sheen of sweat and near hyperventilation.

But soon, I ran out of things to talk about. After that, the creeping muteness made its home and only broke its hush calm when Felix snored or someone spoke.

The drive was lonely and slow. Time seemed to be inching by, minutes seeming like hours. Two hours in, roughly 10 pm now, and nothing stirred. Sure, I saw the occasional walker on the side of the road, but nothing menacing. There wasn't a sudden zombie hoard heading straight towards us like in those ridiculously hilarious zombie movies.

It was almost painfully quiet, surreal even.

Every so often I would hear Felix mumble something or shift into the seat, which I imagined was difficult with the seat belt. I would peer over for a moment to make sure that he was okay and then I would check Marzia before continuing my straight ahead gaze.

Around midnight I noticed a change.

It wasn't too noticeable, considering we were now in the middle of nowhere and maybe fifty miles off from the interstate. However, I began noticing all the zombies that I did come across move in the same direction. Oddly enough, it was toward where we just left – or in other words, a city. It was like they were all mindlessly roaming towards it like planets to the sun.

The weird thing was that if that's where they were heading, why didn't we run into any in the city? We checked every single store that we were able to break into and we never heard a grumble nor scrape indicating their presence.

Rotating my head to peer behind me, I pursed my lips and shook my head. Weird. Maybe I'll mention it when Felix and Marzia wake up.

When I turned back from peering at a zombie to the road, however, I only had a split second to react. A split second to turn sharply to the left to avoid a head on collision with someone.

The tires screeched.

I remember hearing a loud yelp from both of the previously sleeping people.

I distinctively felt the car began to tilt.

Why did I not hit them? Because they were undoubtedly human. It was obvious and if it were the undead I would have just rammed into him.

Now that I think of it, it probably wasn't one of my grandest plans. Choosing their life instead of three of ours at the time.

I only felt the impact for an instant before my vision blacked out and my conscious soon after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I think I used Google Maps like... once. Mostly because I didn't know how far or how long it took to get from St. Augustine to I-95. According to Google Maps, it was saying 4-6 hours so that's what I based this chapter on.
> 
> Kind of slow, I apologize. Next chapter has a newcomer though. No, not pole dancing Mark. He's... within the next five chapters I'd like to say but no promises.
> 
> Anyhow, thanks for reading. 
> 
> Oh, and this is the last of my already existing chapters so there is a delay starting now for the next chapter. Sorry.


	5. Chapter 5: Guilt-Ridden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a moment, I couldn't figure out if everything happened too _fast_ for me to follow or too slow for me to keep up.
> 
> It took another moment to realize the scene was still going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. I promised a certain reviewer that I had the update in the palms of my hand but life kind of interfered. Well, here it is! I admit this chapter is OOC in a sense that I DO NOT know how to write Jack to the best of my capabilities.
> 
> For those who, like me, are fans of Jack, I apologize for the out of character-ness. :(

Chapter 5: Guilt-Ridden

JackSepticEye POV

For a moment, I couldn't figure out if everything happened too _fast_ for me to follow or too slow for me to keep up.

It took another moment to realize the scene was still going on.

Everything just kind of happened in slow motion. From start to finish, beginning to end, each second being seemingly longer than the previous moment. Footstep by footstep, grunt by groan, curse by swear; it was a very long phase that I did not like in the slightest.

Imagine being in a room. A dark, lonely room with no sliver of light to remind you that you are indeed in a room and not in the crevices of your questionable mind. Imagine that. Now, take the idea that there in the back of your skull, nudging at you, mocking you, is a little clock. A clock ticking each second and all you can do is sit and do nothing because, as I said before, you are in a dark, lonely room with no sliver of light to remind you.

That's how I felt as I watched everything happen in front of me, to me, because of me. I felt useless, and then I felt angry about feeling useless. I mean, I often get angry or loud about a lot of things, but this was different. It had to be different. For once, it wasn't horror games or indie games making me act the way I did, but reality and the fact that lives were being risked and not my viewer count or subscriptions, not that I balanced my career off of those but still.

I could hear the clock ticking in the background, could feel the sunburn holes in my back hours ago as if to tap its watch with a pointed look of _"this is not going to go by quickly"_. Shadows grew and shrunk as the natural light arched its way into the sky and I noticed all of it with a growing sense of annoyance and paranoia.

Annoyance because I knew that noticing the slow advancement was not going to speed it up. It never does. Noticing the time only makes it drag out longer and longer, like stretching taffy out to blend in flavors and colors. The paranoia was an after effect that came with looking behind me, flinching at every sound, cursing at the smallest of mistakes, and, of course, fearing my own demise. Time made everything feel like a suspenseful horror game, as in slender or the walking dead.

A creature stalking your blood and drooling over the fancied thought of devouring your skin. The moon apathetically watching with silent bets on how long your string will get before being snipped. The shadows debating whether to leave your walking corpse because you surviving is as slim as with the width of paper. Leaves rustling with warning. Branches hiding your shivers. These were the things that time reminded me of.

That time was fucking limited, scarce, a nonrenewable resource.

And for some reason, it decided that stretching it out as long as possible was one way to solve the problem.

But the second that I crossed the street and noticed the car heading towards me, suddenly everything was speeding up and accelerating a million miles per hour. That whole phrase where you suddenly see your entire lifetime flash before your eyes like a movie on fast-forward? It was certainly not exaggerated, I can give you that much.

I saw my home, my computer, my girlfriend who didn't last as long as I hoped. I saw bits of my future that I was positive I imagined when it included certain people I knew were out of my reach.

What they never said about these experiences was that it was a bittersweet sort of feeling. Relishing moments of our lives in exchange for losing it? It didn't seem to add up and I briefly wondered if anybody else ever questioned it.

And then, as I stared ahead with wide, unseeing eyes, the headlights swerved and the car soon followed, rolling and rolling over until it ceased upside down.

The moments that followed after was to jump start my heart and to remind it that it indeed still had a body to help function. My lungs were shocked beyond belief and after some forced coaxing, they too regained the ability to breathe. The brain part was thinking of every calculation, every possibility of surviving what just happened and then throwing it out the window like waving a white flag of confusion.

For a second, I wanted to burst out laughing. I wanted to laugh and cry and hug the nearest tree like it was the most beautiful thing in my short lifetime. Even as I stared at the wreck, I could feel hysterical giggles bubble their way up my throat and it took all of my willpower to clamp down on it.

I was alive.

What were the odds of that?

More yet, it seemed that, in addition to my reestablished love of life, the accident caused time to finally restore itself to normal speed.

And with that, every single thought suddenly came crashing down like a ton of bricks. Roaring waves of everything that just went silent when danger was obvious and inevitable.

Breathing seemed like the hardest thing to do at that moment. The lungs that were beginning to work back at a normal pace were faltering and stuttering like a dying vehicle.

In the back of my head, the shock seemed like a valid reason for this, but it didn't help anything. I knew what I needed to do and it seemed the furthest thing from happening. Calming down. Focusing. _Breathing._

"Oh god," I breathed in shakily, staring at the wreck. Those words kept repeating themselves in different amounts of intensity, different pitches of fear. Sometimes they were borderline hysterical and other times it was more like a monotone. My lack of words at the moment didn't bother me as my lack of doing _anything_ really did.

I rubbed my face and closed my eyes, focusing on my breathing. It wasn't easy and that was putting it lightly.

"Oh god. Okay. Calm down. I did that. I caused that. Oh god. I need to do something." Organization helped clear my head. My lungs didn't feel as deflated, but I still didn't open my eyes. I needed to be perfectly calm. Or at least calm enough to do something without panic freezing me in place.

I forced myself to move forward and could feel a scolding voice in the back of my head. It was probably the rational side reminding me that I wasn't a child and this certainly wasn't the time nor place to be acting as such. "Yes, that's right Jack you fucking idiot. Do something and don't just stand here like you suddenly melted to the spot!"

My steps were rigid and almost stiff, like my legs were frozen. I had to use my entire body as momentum to move them step by step. My fingers were twitching so badly that I eventually resolved to clenching them into fists. Adrenaline numbed me to most of the fear and self-blame I felt at that moment. Thank god for that. If it hadn't intervened, I might have never actually done anything of use.

Because, really, my history had nothing that could have helped me in this moment. I was a youtuber. I was not a medical emergency person or someone who is certified in first aid. Sure I may be used to acting quickly and swiftly, because of horror video games and just gaming in general really, but that didn't mean I was effective. I was just quick on my feet and in forcing myself out of a fatal stupor. Additionally, I was a terrible person in the names of stress and even more so when I am placed on the spot. Give me a light and I will find a way to burn under it in attempts to push it away.

I was not made for this scene. I was not the one they needed.

But at the same time, I knew I was going to be the only one they had to rely on.

The world had effectively gone to shite the second I landed here. There was no way I could fish out my cellphone and call the local hospital (what even was the number again? 911?). I'm sure everyone was currently trying to fend for themselves or dead.

So that definitely left me as the only chance of helping them.

Fuck my life.

Forcing my legs to move faster, I picked up pace and soon became close enough to inspect the car. It had three people inside. One, was a guy with a pokerface mask. Silly thing in this sort of situation but whatever. Next to him was another guy and in the back, someone that might be a woman. The shadows did little to show their faces or forms.

Okay. What was next? First aid should be easy right? Right. Yeah. I'm the fucking boss. I can do this.

Check the area. Got it. Can do.

The car in itself had a tiny flame, but I wasn't an idiot. That little flame, if it hit a fuel tank, could spark one hell of an explosion. Taking off my jacket, I immediately attempted to put it out. At first, it seemed like I was going to end up like one of my Sims and possibly catch fire as well, but then it sizzled and faded to a black scorch mark on both the car and jacket.

Okay. Check. The scene is safe. Now to rescue. I can do this. I know I can.

No not really. I'll find a way to fuck it up but a boss never thinks that way. Shake it off Jack. Shake it off.

Going to the driver's side, I peered at the guy with the mask. His left arm was at an odd angle and some parts of him had some cuts and bruises, but otherwise he was fine. Well, besides being unconscious of course.

I tried to pull the door open first, hoping that some God will smile down at me and flick their finger to make saving them easier. There was no such luck. The door wouldn't budge. It was like the door jammed at the impact of the rolls.

Sitting down, I placed my feet on either sides of the door and attached my finger to the handle, pulling with all the force I could manage. Seconds ticked by and I was about to try for a different method when it creaked and finally gave way. Wiping the sweat off my brow, I let out a breathy smile and removed the seat belt, gingerly placing my hands to keep him suspended until I can safely lever him down.

I carefully handled his broken arm although it certainly was not easy. At all. Like, difficult as fuck when the car is upside down. Gravity was against him and I could hear a small whine in the back of his throat as tension was placed on the awkward angle. Wincing, I clenched my teeth and tried my best to get him down quickly and safely.

I managed to get him out after an excruciating amount of time. I briefly contemplated whether to drag him or not, but thinking of the injury the broken bone could become if not taken care of properly, I decided it would be best to just carry him.

He was light. Ridiculously light. No offense and all, but I expected Americans to be heavier than this.

But no, it was like he barely ate anything. I could feel some of his bones dig into my hold as I moved swiftly to a safe area. This made me worry. I was positive he could heal quickly and without any further incidence, but if he wasn't healthy to begin with (not to mention he still hadn't gained consciousness at all period) there could be more problems along the road.

Another thing that bothered me was the mask. The pokerface mask covered his face securely, not even moved an inch despite the crash. It seemed oddly familiar. Like I had seen another youtuber with it or at least the same _symbol_ …

I sighed. No point in wondering about it now. I still had two others to save before I can even think of taking a break.

Shrugging his form into a better position, I carried him over to a tree away from the wreck and began to make my way back.

I was beginning to contemplate the mask design when I heard the blood-curdling screams and anguished cries.

The woman seemed to have woken up.

Cursing, I ran as fast as I could back to the wreck. Making my way to the other side of the car, I peered at the back seat window. The glass had shattered on impact making it easier to see who it was upon closer inspection.

"Marzia?"

Her hyperventilating paused for a moment as she tried to find the face that matched my voice. When she met my eyes, she squinted them as if confused or not trusting what she was seeing – possibly both.

"Do I… know you?"

I shrugged sheepishly. "Probably not. I'm a friend of your boyfriend though, a youtuber." I hoped that explained things. Youtubers were almost practically family. Co-op with one and they are bound to become best-internet-mates for life.

That and I didn't want to have to explain more than I already did. It wasn't fear or worry or any of that nonsense. I mean, I _am_ a boss and bosses don't get cold feet on any occasion.

No, I enjoyed talking. It was great and it helped that I was a social butterfly of sorts. Still, like most people, confrontation was not one of my strong suits at all. I curse and laugh obnoxiously with hints of childishness to break the ice to avoid confrontation. I try to play it off and make light of the situation in preference to just… plummeting I guess.

In a way, that's how I lost a lot of what I _had_ before all of this. My girlfriend and my old flat mates? They weren't too fond of this side of me, or much of my personality anyhow. It was fine. I had Mark, Wade, Bob, even Felix on YouTube for speed dial if the case ever presented itself. Like I said, co-op with one and you are bound by water to be best-internet-friends for life.

Blood being thicker than water be damned. In all my cases, water has always kept me a float where blood only makes things heavier.

So, that being said, I had to bite my tongue pretty damn hard in order to not laugh or try to force out some cheesy joke bound to make Marzia absolutely angry at me. Considering the severity and seriousness of this situation, my good humor was not necessarily going to cut it or calm her down as much as truth and bluntness.

"Friend? How do I know that?" _How about the fact that I knew your name for one? Or that I haven't killed your boyfriend?_

But I rolled with it. Taking a deep breath, I sighed.

"Here," I acquiesced. "How about I get you out first before retrieving Felix next."

She laughed. "And what? You could take me away or-" I toned out most of her bitter rants here. Not out of ignorance, but because it was a natural habit of mine. I found out real quick in rants that the beginning and the end were what usually mattered the most. When I finally tuned myself back in she was speaking, "-or rape me and I'll regret doing any of this."

I rose my brow in mild surprise and shrugged.

"Fine. I can see your point. I just hope you know that if I was a bad guy, and I'm not, I could get Felix out only to kill him in front of your eyes you know. I wouldn't do that, but the suspicious side of you is probably not wanting to take a chance where you could have saved him, hm?" God, I _hated_ being mean and ruthless, especially to a woman. It just wasn't my style and it took control to keep my face from crumbling into thick apologies. Ugh, I probably sounded like a complete dick.

Marzia watched me for a minute before muttering a few choice words under her breath. At last, she nodded and sighed. "Fine."

Letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding, I smiled gratefully. "Great. Oh, and if you still don't believe me when _I don't kidnap you_ then, I can ask him once he awakes." I let it sink in and watched the mistrustful look in her eyes fade away to minor suspicion as she nodded.

I let out a sigh of relief. Thank God. I didn't want to force her against her will to trust me. Never mind the fact that you can't _force_ someone to believe your words are not full of shit.

I did the same process I did to get the other guy out on Marzia's door. The last door seemed like I was tugging hell and heaven side by side but this door was ten times worse. I could feel a few colorful words slip my tongue that would make a sailor blush in embarrassment, but of course that didn't help anything.

A few grunts and loud curses later I saw Marzia peak through the broken window. Apparently in the midst of my physical troubles she had unbuckled herself and gingerly lowered herself to the bottom (roof?) of the vehicle.

Awesome. That makes it a lot easier for me once I get this god-forsaken door open.

"You never did tell me your name," she mumbled, eying me as if I was a going to eat her or worse.

"Sean," I said automatically between grunts. Trust issues were not wanted in the potential undead apocalypse so I wanted to put those to rest as soon as I could. This normally meant answering whatever questions asked of me since that's all I could give.

When I looked up, Marzia was giving me a perplexed look. I blinked and went back to forcing the door open.

"What?" She asked at last, looking like my identity was on the tip of her tongue but not quite.

Pausing, I heaved a breath and glanced at her, "My name is Sean, or JackSepticEye, whichever suits your preferences."

"Irish I presume?" She asked and I laughed.

"Was it the accent that gave it away? Yup. Right out of Athlone, Co. Westmeath, Ireland." I winked for good measure and was relieved when she giggled back at me. She was warming to me which was good. I would have felt just plain awful if she was suspicious, or worse, afraid of me. I wasn't that much of a scary guy. I would know if I was.

Finally tugging the door open with a cry of success, I held the door out while Marzia managed to maneuver her way out of it. She was a lot better off than the guy I previously pulled out. She had some pretty bad bruises on her shoulder where the seat belt seared her skin as well as a few spotted ones on her arms, judging from what I could see under her dark blue hoodie.

Other than that, she was perfectly fine. Maybe shaken up and worried out of her mind, but that was to be expected.

After she got out, she stretched and then shivered as if remembering what just happened. A wave of guilt went through me, but I smiled reassuringly when she looked at me. God I'm a coward to not admit this. To admit my involvement in all of this.

It's just that I didn't want her to distrust me. Not until I had Felix out and hopefully conscious to rationalize the situation and calm her down. I knew for a fact that if I said "Hey, I kind of caused the accident that hurt you, your boyfriend, and the other guy" that it would not end well.

Marzia nudged my shoulder and I blinked, coming out of my thoughts.

"Now, we need to get Felix out of here." She nodded and helped me open the door. It was the easiest out of all three I did open. Maybe it was Marzia or maybe it was actually the least damaged. Whatever the case may be, I was so happy I didn't have to strain my non-existent muscles opening another door.

I held Felix up as she unclicked his seat belt. He was unconscious from the looks of it, like the other guy had been.

When he was safely on the asphalt of the road, Marzia checked him over. Like Marzia, he had a few bruises but nothing major. Overall, the driver got the worst of the impact. I winced, knowing it was my fault.

Marzia backed away with a smile and sat, legs crossed, in front of Pewds. I followed suit and leaned back on my hands.

"Not what you expected when coming to sunny Florida, huh?"

She shrugged and shook her head. "Not at all. I can't fix it though and going back in time is impossible. The only thing we can do is move on." She looked fondly at Pewds and I felt a pang of brief, unjustified jealousy as I thought of one person I would love to give me the same look.

Shaking my head to clear the images, I nodded in her direction. "Here here."

At that moment, Felix gradually opened his eyes. They looked confused, unclear, and certainly disheveled. He looked around until he met my eyes.

He sat up real quick only to falter from the sudden blood flow. Marzia and I stabled him as he met my eyes.

"Jack?"

"The last remaining Bossatronio from the planet Bossatron." I grinned and he sighed.

"Here for the party I assume?"

"You know it."

Felix nodded and then looked at Marzia in concern.

"Are you okay?"

"Just a little bruised is all," she smiled and shrugged. "Nothing I can't shake off."

Felix looked oddly suspicious before flitting his gaze around. "Where's Cry?"

I was confused. Cry? Where was he in all of this? It's kind of hard to tell who he is if I don't know what he looks like. Was he possibly still in the back of the vehicle? I was positive that I counted three people in the vehicle. Maybe he was…

"The guy with the pokerface mask?" I made a circle around my face and watched as Felix nodded.

I grimaced. Of course Felix caught it. I wasn't really good at hiding emotions after all. The best open book in the history of open books.

"What happened? Is he..?"

I caught on real quick and shook my head before he could finish. "No no! He's okay! He just got the worst of the impact. Last I checked, he wasn't conscious yet. I don't know when, or even if, he is going to wake up."

Felix stumbled as he jumped up and leaned on Marzia for a moment before going to where Cry leaned against a tree.

Kneeling in front of him, I watched as Felix placed two fingers against his neck for a pulse. He then placed his hand in front of Cry's mouth to feel for breath. I assumed from the relieved expression that everything was alright.

I shuffled behind the two, a little behind Marzia. Guilt was an awful feeling and it had me in its clutches. I hated being reminded of this feeling, but I didn't like being at fault for things that could have been avoided. It was because of this that I knew this feeling wasn't going to leave for a while until I was thoroughly forgiven – if I was forgiven.

Felix turns toward me and I could see the look in his eyes as well as the raise in his brow that he had suspicions. I would have questioned his state of mind if he wasn't suspicious of my turning up honestly. A random guy in the middle of nowhere? Yeah, there was something not right about that.

"I may not have been conscious at the time, but I know Cry wouldn't get into a car accident unless there was a pretty damn good reason to do so. That being said," he looked me over. "Speak. What were you doing here? Besides Cry's birthday of course."

"What do you mean?" I replied, wincing as Felix gave me the best "are you fucking with me" look.

Felix motioned the area of the accident.

"Here."

I sighed. "Stuff happened back at the airport after I got off and I decided to go on foot when it seemed that every car was either dead, out of fuel, or contaminated with a walker of some sort of caliber."

Felix pauses. "And I assume you were the one who caused the accident?"

I winced. "How do you know that I didn't just come out of the scenery afterward?"

"Because you're avoiding the question in defense." Felix smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Too many video games. I know when a character, or person, is lying to me."

My lips didn't move to tell him he was right or wrong. I could see the patience wearing thin as his form stiffened, still crouching in front of cry.

"Jack?" he warned and I flinched.

I nodded and let my guilt show itself. "Yeah. I caused it. I didn't mean to! I promise I never meant to, Pewds. I was making my way on foot from the airport, as I said, and I was about to cross the road to look at the cars across the street that were unoccupied. I just wasn't paying attention…"

My words drifted off as I noticed the pained look in Felix's eyes. I could see the annoyed expression being carefully hidden and judging by how Marzia shuffled closer to him in case things got bad, I could see she noticed as well.

However, instead of getting angry, Felix pinched his nose, closing his eyes.

I, on the other hand, was preparing a long list of apologies.

"Look," I paused my internal apologies. "I would get mad. Honestly, I would be pretty damn angry since that was reckless, and that's saying a lot coming from me of all people." He sighed. "However, it will not help in this situation. We need a unity, not a war full of grudges." One look from Marzia told me that she didn't expect this maturity from her boyfriend at all.

Silence fell in sheets as I let that sink in. Pewds seemed to go back to checking the wounds on Cry and trying to figure out a way to make his broken arm a little less hard to bear. I would have helped but I was in between wondering if Pewds would _let me_ , first of all, and then if I could be of much help secondly. Felix seemed to know what he was doing after all so I remained silent, observing everywhere and anywhere.

Marzia was the one who eventually broke it.

Looking at me, she motioned back to the car. "Is the car alright? Just… just kind of curious since we have our stuff in there and-"

"No, it's fine. There was a small fire, but I put it out before rescuing you guys. It should be fine."

Nodding, Marzia stretched briefly and left to retrieve their stuff.

It was just Pewds and I. I mean, Cry was here of course, but conscious wise? It was only the two of us and the want, no, need to apologize, despite Felix's dismissal earlier, was growing.

However, it was clear that I should hold it back.

When Marzia was out of sight, Felix let himself crumble to the floor. It wasn't the crumble of exhaustion, but the crumble of becoming sick with worry and fear. Like having the adrenaline rush out of you almost as quickly as it appeared. Felix looked borderline questionable that I was becoming alarmed at his state.

He was sitting on the ground with his knees up and arms resting over top. His head rested between his elbows, forehead against his knees. His breathing was deep but a little ragged. I took a step forward but Felix shook his head, telling me he was alright.

I held a certain amount of respect for the man here. It didn't take an idiot to realize he was only being strong and calm for Marzia's sake. He knew what he had to do and he accepted the responsibility without a second thought. I know I would do the same if the chance rose.

Still, Felix was only human. He couldn't be some _martyr_ the entire time. With how glued Marzia was to him, how she _relied_ on him to make sure everything way alright, I knew he wouldn't have much of a chance to release these emotions. God, I could see the weight on his shoulders and I didn't envy him. I would take the load off his shoulders, at least some of it, but I knew he wouldn't let me.

Pewdiepie was an idiot like that. A fucking daft man who would use _himself_ as a scapegoat before anyone could even fancy the idea of doing it for _him_.

Ugh.

Bloody fool I swear.

I guess that's why everyone, myself included, appreciates him.

The groan that escaped Felix's lips as he lifted his head made me grimace. He never looked at me accusingly, instead glancing at Cry in another reflection of uneasiness and discomfort. I swear I saw something else in those eyes though. I will swear back and forth – hell, heaven, earth, and back – that a brief look of absolute fear filled his eyes before blinking out to friendly worry.

It may have been just me, but that seemed pretty damn more than friendly. That was closer to a look you give to _family or more_.

Indeed I felt awful about the whole ordeal – God knows _that_ will never go – but I was a tad curious about the look.

Still, I felt like I should voice how shitty I felt for the accident rather than the questionable bond with Cry.

"Look, I'm sorry, Pewds. I really didn't mean for this-"

Felix shakes his head. "Don't, Jack. Just don't. I know. I am still upset at you, but I can't help that. I mean, one of my oldest YouTube friends is unconscious and maybe worse! Anyone would be upset over that. I really do not need apologies right now. Just… don't worry about it, Jack."

He cringes as he says it and I shuffle. That was the saying he always told cry.

After a moment he offered a smile. "Look, if you _really_ want to apologize to anyone, apologize to Cry. He's the one you really need to do it to as well as the grandest thank you ever, you know?"

I nodded with a small quirk of my lips. I could see the stray hurt but I couldn't do much about that. I apologized and from now on I'll make up for it.

Scratching the back of my head and fixing my hat, I look around anxiously. "We should probably get going soon. Staying here isn't safe."

Felix hummed in affirmation. "We need to get a ride actually. By foot, I can probably carry Cry for perhaps a few hours, but if he isn't conscious by then, I'm going to be exhausted and worthless when I'm needed."

"Perhaps we could hotwire a car?" I offered.

He laughs and I feel a tinge of frustration out of habit. It was almost like a mocking laughter although I knew that was all in my head. "We need to see if there is a working battery, gas, the keys and who knows how many vehicles have all that in one sitting."

Finally the frustration leaked out. "Then what do we do, Felix?"

Pewds flinched and I regretted the reply for an instant. Raising a brow in my direction, he finally relaxed his tense shoulders and shrugged.

"I honestly have no fucking clue, Jack. For some reason, and I don't know why, but everyone seems to be looking up to _me_ so far and I don't know _why_. I'm not a leader. I'm not meant to take the lead."

"You look and act more like a leader more than the rest of us, Felix," I answer truthfully. "I mean, I only have been here for what? Thirty minutes? An hour tops? I could immediately dub you as the leader. You or Cry at least, but you were my first pick."

A smile cracked across Felix's face. "Thanks. That means a lot, Jack. I don't plan to remain the leader, though. We need someone else to fill those shoes for me because they are too damn big for someone like _me_."

"Like who?" I countered, not really surprised by his answer.

Felix was about to answer when a scream rang out loud and clear.

Marzia.

Pewds is gone as fast as he can move. Dashing through the brush to where the car was if not getting hit with branches and whipped with leaves on the way.

I hesitated and looked at Cry's unconscious form.

_Well, I guess I'll have to carry him. Can't just leave him here._

Cursing, I huffed the guy over my shoulders and followed the Swede.

When I got to where the other two are, I see the scene in front of me and swore louder.

Marzia was surrounded by three walkers. One was grabbing her thigh as she tried to shake it off. Its nasty claws were getting stuck in her jeans as she hissed and yelled out random phrases in both Italian and English. Luckily, she was elevated on top of the toppled vehicle. Still, that didn't give her much leverage.

She would have been fine if it was just her and the one walker, however, more seemed to join the single actor.

The other two were starting to join the first. Their steps were uneven, more than a little lop-sided, and slow, but it didn't matter if Marzia didn't get higher on the vehicle before they got there.

Felix crazily glanced around before picking up a large tree branch off the side of the road. He began yelling to attract the other zombies and I was about to question his sanity at that point. Remember what I said earlier? About this guy being a damn martyr? I was joking then but now I wasn't so sure.

He was looking to dig himself his fucking grave if he didn't stop rushing in God damn it.

The zombie on Marzia didn't budge, finding the close meal far more appetizing, but the other two turned sharply and if they could grin I swear they would have.

I only watched in growing horror as Felix seemed to grow more reckless as the time wore on.

Ignoring the first two, Felix ran straight for the one on Marzia and smashed his skull in repeatedly with the tree branch. I knew that branch wasn't as strong as Felix made it seem so most of it had to be force. That made Pewds seem scarier than before, and I was about to walk away from the protective guy a bit until he finished his… whatever he was doing.

The blood and bits that came from the zombie as Felix pounded his skull in was almost dizzying to the point of repainting the scene in front of me in crimson and black. I winced, remembering that this was real life and that no matter how much I wished this was a video game, it never could be.

Turning away from the two, I spotted one of the other zombies heading straight for Felix and of course the bloke didn't see him.

Fucking idiot.

I lay Cry down out of sight from the other zombies and ran as fast as I could to pull the zombie that was about to grab Felix away.

Right when I managed to touch its arm, I felt another presence on my shins. A second passed before I was pulled backwards and tumbling the ground. I winced as I tried to catch myself with my hands, scratches from the asphalt make them burn with every movement. I could feel blood begin to run down my skin at the parts impacted worse than the other areas.

I hissed and cursed, struggling in the zombies grip.

It began to climb up my back and with the weight of its dead flesh, I couldn't move an inch. I could see why this one couldn't exactly walk. It was more top heavy than the other two by far and for some reason I overlooked that in my haze to save Felix from being absolutely stupid.

I could feel the hot breath making its way on my skin. The hairs on my neck rose and stood on end like petrified deer in the middle of a highway. Everything seemed in to enhance itself to high definition and I didn't like it a bit. I noticed _everything_.

The body fluids were becoming soaked into my jacket and I could recognize the bony fingers that prodded easily on my form. The gurgling and heavy grunts showing the hard work this corpse was making towards his next meal was only increasing the fear and hyperventilation approaching high intensity levels.

Death and the fear of it entered my mind. Just like everyone else, I didn't want to die. Who _ever_ wanted to die? Certainly not me. Hello? Last Bossatronio from Bossatron? I'm kind of an endangered species! I can _not_ die. Not here.

Panic began to make its mark on me as the internal rantings of being a boss mingled in every other phrase. Adrenaline coursed through my veins and I began gasping as air came out to quickly than I took it in.

In the background I heard shuffling. It was unsteady and closer to stumbling than anything. Next was a loud gasp mixed in with concern and fear. I mostly focused on this because narrowing on my inevitable death seemed less appetizing.

God I did not want to die.

Then the zombie stopped scrambling. I waited for him to move, to stop playing possum, but he didn't move. Pushing him off in one movement, I saw the guy with the pokerface mask – Cry I reminded myself – smiling thinly as the mask had rose to show his lips barely. The zombie on Pewds also fell off, dead once again.

I looked at Cry and I mean really looked at him. He was wavering, shaking violently, and huffing like what he just did rivaled running a few hundred meters. He just looked plain unstable and even more pale and waxy like than before if that was even possible. On top of that, I could just _tell_ he was not seeing things straight. I couldn't see his eyes, but the way he was acting made it an almost guarantee.

Glancing between all of our shocked faces, he grinned a little more. He tried to rotate his head to look at all of us, but instead it only seemed to disorient him more. It didn't seem to waver his intentions nevertheless.

Smiling broadly like we were his favorite people in the word, he spoke clearly.

"Oh hi."

And then he crashed to the floor.

Well, he would have hit the floor if Felix hadn't caught him in time.

Looking at me, I could read the confusion in his eyes. I was confused too. I mean, I was positive and even Felix was certain that Cry was unconscious. One person does not suddenly jump out of unconsciousness that quickly just because his friends were in danger. It just wasn't possible at all. No medical journal could say it was physically possible.

I stood and dusted whatever I could off of me, staring in disgust when most of it was internal organs that fell off the corpse. Shaking off the excess adrenaline, I blinked when Felix held Cry out to me.

Taking him without question, I watched as Felix checked Marzia over. She looked shaken, borderline faint with all the raw terror. However, other than that she seemed fine. That's a relief.

I looked around the scene and saw that apparently Felix dealt with the other zombie about as successfully as the first and shivered roughly. Those images were never going to leave my head.

Since I was practically useless while carrying Cry, Marzia and Felix both teamed up to grab all of the items that were in the car. When Felix pulled out the final item, a Polaroid camera, I raised my brow. He tilted his head towards Cry and I nodded in realization. It seemed like the thing he would have. Kind of quirky but definitely his style.

I followed the two of them as they checked for a car, or vehicle in general, that had gas, a working battery, and keys. Every car had at least one of these, or two if we were lucky, but none had all three.

After a few cars, Felix let out a loud sigh. "If we can at least get a car with just a fucking battery I will be eternally grateful." It seemed like most of the old owners had the bright idea of taking the battery as they fled, probably to use it in another vehicle.

Looking at him, I chuckle. "Do you know how to hotwire a car? I take it you do if you're only asking for the battery?"

Felix chuckled nervously. "Actually…"

"I do," Marzia chirped up and Felix and I stopped dead. I knew I was gaping but this seemed like a pretty damn good reason to be gaping honestly.

Marzia? Pretty girl with fashion and all that girly stuff knowing how to hotwire a car?

Impossible.

"How?" I choked up and then cleared my throat. "How do you know how to do that?" I mean, I know how to do it, but I didn't expect her.

She shrugged. "Desperate times calls for desperate measures."

Felix shook his head in awe like he found a renewed reason to fall more in love with the woman. I rolled my eyes and began to move again.

I didn't know how much hours passed. It was a while I'll tell you that much. My arms were starting to get exhausted with carrying Cry. Sure he was light, but it still didn't change the fact that my arms were not made to carry a grown man for a few hours – or so I thought passed.

We were about to take a break when Felix let out a happy yelp.

He was peering into the driver side of an old Chevy truck. Looking at us with a wide grin, he waved around a few keys and whooped louder. "Look! The battery works as well. Man, this is great!" The excitement trailed its way through all of us as he continued to grin.

I will admit I was a tad disappointed to not see Marzia actually hotwire a car, but maybe next time. I wasn't going to believe her until I see it. Seeing is believing after all. Everyone knows that.

Throwing all the items into the bed of the truck, Felix helped me place Cry in the back seat. I decided to let Marzia take the passenger seat and sat in the back, fixing Cry so his head would rest on my shoulder and not in some odd direction likely to make him annoyed in the morning.

Due to my long history of horror games, I looked behind me before I entered the car.

I paused. Well, more like stopped dead in my tracks.

The zombies that were there before, dead once more as they should be, were gone. Not gone as in walking away or dissipating to fog. It was _different_ from that and I didn't like the sound of different in a zombie apocalypse. What was left of them was instead of black ink substance as if they dissolved into oil.

Shuddering, I get into the car and hope that this was nothing more than a zombie apocalypse. Add in a new aspect and everything will go to shit before you can shout _"wait."_

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my first fanfictions in which I will be using YouTubers. It's more so an experiment that I fancied writing and hopefully it will eventually turn into something enjoyable and all. I mean, I'm not the best writer and this story isn't the best or the most original, but hey, maybe someone will like it?
> 
> That would be neat.
> 
> I don't own these YouTubers by the way. I'll say it once here on the first chapter for all of those that come after. I don't know them personally so this may be OOC and I apologize. Still, I'm going off what I have noticed being subscribed to them for so long and enjoying every second of it.
> 
> So, yeah.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter.


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